More Than She Bargained For
by Christine Ruud
Summary: Eddi Arbess is an average college graduate with no money and no job. When she meets an intriguing yet dangerous man named Cole Turner, she's sucked into a world of witches, demons, and, even worse, filing systems. begins during season five's Sam, I Am
1. Introductions Of A Fiery Kind

**More Than She Bargained For **

**Chapter One: Introductions of a Fiery Kind**

The first person I ever met in San Francisco was a brunette woman who was storming out of my new apartment building, muttering about "vanquishing that damn scumbag" and "making sure it sticks." I looked at her and she shook her head. "Never mind."

Once I was in the elevator and had set my Wal-Mart suitcases down, I sighed. "What am I doing here?" I asked as I punched the button for the sixth floor. "I have almost no money. What _do _I have? A stupid apartment."

Yep, that's me. Eddi Arbess, eternal pessimist.

The elevator's doors opened and I stepped out. Apartment 6D was at the end of the hallway, and when I opened the door, I groaned.

My furniture was nowhere to be seen.

"I do not _believe _this," I groaned. "How long can it take to drive a moving van from Modesto to San Francisco?" I rummaged around in my purse for my phone. Only when I'd gotten it out did I remember that I didn't have the movers' number. I don't think anyone did. (Rule Number One of Foster Moving Services: "Your cell phone numbers are to be kept secret. No exceptions."

I slammed the door and stormed back to the elevator. Jabbing a button, I crossed my arms. I'd go back downstairs, call a cab, and find a hotel for the night. Tomorrow, when (and if) the movers came, I'd yell at them. With luck, I wouldn't have to pay them for being late. My apartment at The Towers had eaten up most of my savings and, until I found a decent job, I would be basically broke.

The elevator doors opened and I was facing not the lobby, but the penthouse. _I must've hit the wrong button_, I decided as I stepped out. _Oh well. Maybe somebody up here will have a phone book._

There was a smash. I screeched. A ball of lightning ricocheted off of a mirror.

"Who the hell are you?"

"What?" I backed up to get back in the elevator, but the doors had closed.

The scruffy-looking (albeit handsome) man who'd thrown the…whatever it had been squinted at me. "Who're you?"

"Eddi. Eddi Arbess. Edwina actually, but only my parents and Zinnia call me that. I just moved here from Modesto and I really don't want to because I've never been to the Atlantic Ocean and that's one of my life goals. See, when my grandparents came here form Norway, their ship sank, and they were two of the only ten who made it out alive, and someday I want to see the port where their ship came in. Pardon the cliché. But-"

The man shook his head. "I asked who you were, not for your life story."

"If anyone should be asking questions, it's me."

"I'm sorry, but I thought this was my penthouse."

"You almost killed me!"

"I'm a lawyer. I could have you arrested for breaking and entering."

"And I could turn you in for attempted murder." I crossed my arms, mainly to stop shaking. "So. What was that thing you threw at me?"

"It's called an energy ball."

"Uh-huh. And the purpose of it is…"

"What are you, a reporter? Just leave me alone. I've got plans to make, a witch to win back, and, if that fails, I've got to vanquish myself."

"Okay, everyone says that San Francisco is strange, but I never thought it was _this _strange. Did you say 'witch'?"

An energy ball formed in the man's hand. "Get out."

I hit the "down" button on the elevator, not eager to dodge one of those things again. "I'm going. I'm going. I'm…not going."

"What?"

"I don't hear the elevator moving."

"Great. The damn thing must be broken again."

"Again? I pay more than my car down payment to live here and the elevator breaks on a regular basis?" I demanded.

"Maybe I should put you out of your misery."

I ducked and there was a crash. "Missed," I said, getting up from the floor. "Who _are _you?"

"Name's Cole Turner, formerly the Source of All Evil, formerly Belthazor."

"Explain?"

"I'm a demon. An insane demon. Completely insane. Cuckoo. Off my rocker."

"No argument there. But you're a…a demon?"

"Ex-demon, actually."

I hit the down arrow again in a wild hope that the doors would open and I could get back to reality. No such luck. "Ex-demon?" I repeated.

"Not 'ex' enough for Phoebe."

I moved closer to this man. While this was one of the strangest things I'd ever seen, it was also one of the most interesting. "Is she the witch?"

"Give the woman a prize. She's a genius." The former Source of All Evil (whatever that was, although I had a hunch it was nothing good) sat down on the couch.

"She shouldn't be that hard to win back. After all, aren't witches and demons on the same side?"

"A witch can be either good or evil. The general population has the 'ugly hag flying on a broomstick' impression. Mine is one of the most powerful good witches of all time. Not good enough, apparently," he added under his breath, "because I'm still here."

"Mr. Turner," I began, "you don't know who I am—neither do I right now, but that's beside the point—but I'd like to interview you."

"Interview? You're crazy."

"Well, you said that you are too."

"Listen to me." Cole stood up. "I'm trying to get the love of my life back, and I don't need anyone around to complicate it."

"Who says I'd be complicating it?"

"Me."

I shrugged. "I'm a wonderful schemer."

"Oh?"

"I'll help you if you'll help me."

"I'm beyond help," Cole said.

"I don't believe that."

"Save the psychological crap for someone who cares."

Before I could say anything in response, the elevator doors opened.

"I'd suggest leaving," said Cole.

I got into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. "I'll be back."

"I'll be ready."

**XXX**

After find a decent hotel and checking in (it was the Holiday Inn, in case you were wondering), I digested what I'd learned from Cole Turner. The house I grew up in was haunted (or at least that's what my younger sister claimed), so I was pretty sure that the supernatural was real. I was a little shaken up by the whole "energy ball" thing, but I'd get over it…hopefully.

The witch part was a little harder to think about. Good witches? Besides Glinda in _The Wizard of Oz, _I hadn't heard about many. And to me, witches didn't seem like the falling-in-love type (although _Bewitched _was an exception).

I had to get to know Cole Turner.

_A/N: This story is a bit of a first for me—it's entirely written out. The idea came to me about three weeks ago and I wrote about sixty pages in, oh, twenty days or so._

_Does anyone else think it's warm in here?  
_

…_that was random._

_Anyway…moving on…reviews give me great joy! _


	2. Intrigue And An Interview

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Two: Intrigue And An Interview **

My furniture arrived the next day. The movers said that they'd blown a tire on the interstate and I decided to believe them. After setting all of my boxes and furniture in the living room of my apartment, they left, probably to go break an antique loveseat. The good news? I only had to pay three-fourths of what they'd usually charge. (So sue me. I'm cheap.)

I gave the couch a shove and moved it a grand total of two centimeters. "Figures," I muttered. "When I _need _Viv's sniveling boyfriends hanging around, they aren't."

I needed help and knew exactly where to find it.

**XXX**

The penthouse was dark and quiet when I arrived. "Cole?" I called.

"Phoebe?"

A door opened and Cole appeared. He had shaved and was wearing a black suit.

I raised my eyebrows. "You look different."

"I wonder how you'd look as a pile of ash."

"Don't." I put my hands on my hips. "I need help."

"Sorry, I don't do community service."

"Do you have anything better to do? It'll take three minutes."

"If I do, will you leave me alone?"

"Possibly."

That seemed to win him over, because Cole followed me into the elevator.

"So, are energy balls your only trick, or do you have other features?" I asked.

"You don't want to know."

"Try me," I said. "Can you become invisible?"

"And you'd have me confused with Harry Potter."

"How about creating objects? Could you make an alligator appear?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Not really. Can you…what's the word for it? Can you teleport?"

Cole disappeared and, a second later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Whirling around, I came face-to-face with him. "Nice. How about turning people into frogs?"

"If necessary."

The elevator stopped and I motioned for Cole to follow me. I opened the door to Apartment 6D. "Here you go."

"Okay, so what's the big emergency?"

"I need help moving my furniture.'

Cole rolled his eyes. He moved his hand from left to right and, before my eyes, my furniture was arranged and my boxes were unpacked.

"Now _that's _impressive," I said. "Thanks."

"Don't think I did this for gratitude," Cole replied.

And, before I could say anything else, he…well, "faded out" would be the correct term, I guess.

I sat down at my computer desk and connected to the internet. Research about Cole Turner was screaming to be done.

**XXX**

An hour later, I was satisfied. If the information I got was right, Cole was about one hundred and seventeen years old. His father had been murdered in the 1880s, and his mother…there was no date of death for her either, so she must have been (be?) a demon as well.

Cole was working for a law firm now—Jackman, Carter, & Kline. Interestingly enough, there was a personal assistant job open.

I went to get dressed for my first job interview in San Francisco.

**XXX**

"Impressive," appraised Mr. Carter, the well-dressed older man that was reading my resume. "A journalism major. That's certainly a plus for this job."

"Thank you." I shifted in my seat and hoped my brown tweed suit didn't look like the Target discount it was. (For some reason, I didn't think Mr. Carter's black silk jacket cost eighteen dollars on the clearance rack.)

"I have to say, I think you have all the qualifications for the job," Mr. Carter said. "I'd like to have Mr. Turner meat with you."

"Mr. Turner?" I repeated. "That's who I'd be assisting?"

"Yes. His last assistant quit rather suddenly a few weeks ago and we haven't been able to dig up a replacement yet." He lowered his voice. "I must warn you, Mr. Turner's a bit…odd."

"Oh?"

"But he's a good attorney, and that's what matters." Mr. Carter hit the button on his desk. "Rose, buzz Turner and tell him that I'm sending in a prospective personal assistant."

"Right away."

Mr. Carter stood up and shook my head. "Nice meeting you, Miss Arbess. Mr. Turner's office is down the hall and to the left."

"Thanks." I stood up and left the office. Being someone's secretary wasn't exactly my idea of a high-profile city job, but it was a start. Besides, I'd worked at the _Modesto Sun _as a receptionist when I was home from college for the past three years, so I had experience.

When I reached Cole's door, I straightened my back, took a confident breath, and knocked.

"Come in," he called.

I obeyed.

"What're you doing here?" Cole asked, sounding a bit more irritated than I'd like a future boss to sound. "I've got an assistant to interview, and God knows I need one." He looked down at the piles of papers on his desk.

"A little desperate, are we?"

"I'd even hire you," said Cole. "Provided that you could file papers, type, and make good coffee."

"I accept!" I said triumphantly, sitting down in one of the brown leather chairs in front of his desk.

"Huh?" Cole looked up from a stack of papers. "You're…"

"Your new assistant," I finished.

"I didn't even hire you yet."

"No, but I'm an expert at filing, can probably type better than you can, and my coffee could win awards."

Cole sighed, looking defeated. "Your desk is outside the door."

"Yay." I crossed my legs. "Do you want my resume?"

"It's a little late for that." Cole handed me a stack of file folders. "Deal with these."

My glamorous job as a secretary had begun.

_A/N: If I see even ONE more green line underneath my sentences, I will scream._

…_but still, the satisfaction of moving on to a new page makes up for Microsoft Word's potential annoyingness. _

_All right, I'm shutting up and posting now._


	3. Welcome To The Work World

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Three: Welcome To The Work World**

The next morning, my alarm clock woke me up by blasting the morning traffic report directly in my ear. I glared at it and, reminiscent of Bill Murray in _Groundhog Day_, picked it up and dropped it to the floor.

"Stupid thing," I muttered. "You're always stuck on 'loud.'"

(Yes, I talk to appliances. Strange? I think not.)

I got out of bed, stretched, and wondered where Cole's unpacking had sent my bronze pumps.

The traffic report gave way to the Beatles (that radio's indestructible) while I hunted for my brown suit. I found it in my closet and was thankful that Cole knew how to arrange clothes. Within ten minutes, I looked almost professional (if that was even possible for me).

"The honorable Edwina Arbess presiding," I said to my reflection in the mirror. I paused. "I think the honorable Edwina Arbess needs to comb her hair."

There was a knock at the door as I was running a brush through my frizzy brown hair. "Come in," I called, grabbing my brown purse and scurrying into the living room. "Cole. Checking in to make sure I didn't oversleep?"

"I had my doubts."

"Thanks, boss." I locked the door and we headed to the elevator. "You have a car?"

"I don't think it'd be inconspicuous if I just appeared in my office every day."

"Ah. That makes sense."

"And until you get a new car, you ride with me."

"Why?"

"I've seen your car. We keep up appearances."

"So now you're criticizing my vehicle. Thank you _ever _so much."

"It's falling apart."

"It's classic."

In the elevator, Cole leaned against the tan wall. "I'm going to be working on the Xavier application today, so hold all my calls. Unless it's Phoebe."

I nodded. "How about visitors? Should I try to turn them into office supplies?"

"That's my department. You just defer anyone who needs me to Mr. Grillis. Except-"

"Phoebe," I finished. "So when are you going to tell me about you and her?"

"You're my assistant, not my confidante."

The elevator doors opened to the lobby. I walked out and promptly fell on my face. The toe of my shoe had gotten caught in the crack between the elevator and lobby.

Cole strode ahead. "Are you coming, or are you planning to grow roots?"

"Would you like arsenic or rat poison in your coffee this morning?" I muttered.

"Both," Cole called over his shoulder.

His car was a silver Porsche and I let out a low whistle, sliding in carefully. Cole hit the gas and I gripped my seat. "I don't get it. Couldn't you just create a new Volvo for me or something?"

"I'd rather have you where I can keep an eye on you."

"Clarify."

"Let's just say that you don't seem to adept in the city yet."

"How do you figure that?"

"You wandered into a complete stranger's penthouse."

"Hit one wrong button and you're branded for life." I took in a breath, getting that new car smell that I hadn't experienced in about nine years.

**XXX**

At the office, I got to work. I draped my jacket across the back of my desk chair and went to the employees' lounge to make Cole's morning coffee. A petite brunette with light brown highlights (and a blazer that screamed Armani) smiled tightly. "You're Mr. Turner's new assistant, right? Edwina?"

"Call me Eddi." After a moment of inspection, I started the coffee pot.

"I'm Andrea Faulkton, Mr. Grillis's assistant. Call me Andrea."

"Not Andy?" I asked innocently.

Her smile waned. "Let me tell you," she said, "if you have any trouble with Mr. Turner, I'd advise getting away. Quickly."

"Why would you advise that?"

"He tried to strangle Lauren, his last assistant."

I winched. "Lovely."

The coffee maker began doing whatever magical process it did to make coffee and I opened the cupboard. Boxes of Special K were intermingled with boxes of Ramen noodles and granola bars. Everything was labeled with Post-It Notes: _Karen, Rose, Andrea, Dandelion _(must have been a flower child), _Ashlee_, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

"Nobody runs to Burger King for lunch?" I asked.

Andrea snorted. "Do you seeanybody that weighs eight hundred pounds?"

That coffee could not get done fast enough.

**XXX**

Cole was on the phone when I brought him his coffee. He covered the mouthpiece. "And what kind of poison is in this?"

"I couldn't find any, so I added some dirt instead."

"Oh, good."

I grinned as I left the office. Cole Turner, demon (ex-demon?) with a sense of humor? I liked it.

_A/N: It is so hot here in the Midwest. I think that I'm melting. _

_Why doesn't my local Wal-Mart have any seasons of "Nip/Tuck"? My local Target doesn't…my local ShopKo doesn't…and that's about it for local stores that would have it. Argh. Small towns leave a __**lot **__to be desired._


	4. Interoffice Gossip

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Four: Interoffice Gossip**

Within three days, I'd gotten used to my routine at work. I'd wake up at seven, decide on something office-worthy to wear (which eliminated about three-fourths of my clothes), wait for Cole to bang on my door, trade sarcastic remarks with him, pray that the Porsche wouldn't spin out of control, and arrive at the office at about ten to eight. From there, Cole would deal with the important people and I'd deal with the not-so-important people.

On Friday, I'd just re-started my computer (we'd had a bit of a power problem) when a woman with dark brown crimped hair waltzed into the office. She glanced at Cole's door, paused, then continued over to my desk. "Is Mr. Turner in?" she asked.

"No, he's on his lunch break."

"Good. Will you give him a message?"

"Sure." I grabbed a pen.

"Tell him that if he ever comes near me or my sisters again, he'll be sorry he ever even looked at me."

I wrote it down on a Post-It Note (I swear that Jackman, Carter, & Kline keeps the Post-It company in business) suspiciously. "And he'll know who this is from?"

"Trust me. He will." She looked closer at me. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"I doubt it. I just moved here."

"Oh. I just thought you looked familiar." She smiled. "I'm Phoebe."

"Eddi."

"Well, well, well. This is a surprise. Did you throw together a new vanquishing potion for me?"

Phoebe turned around to see Cole leaning against his doorframe. "Excuse us," she said to me, and yanked Cole into his office.

I raised my eyebrows, opened up Microsoft Outlook, and began an e-mail to Andrea. She was, to-date, the only person in the office that I'd talked to (aside from Cole, Mr. Carter, and the janitor, that is).

_To--andreafaulkton_

_From--edwinaarbess_

_Subj--???_

_Woman with dark brown hair, seems to have issues with Mr. Turner…what's her deal?_

Andrea's response came back instantaneously.

_To--edwinaarbess_

_From---andreafaulkton_

_Subj--RE--???_

_That's Phoebe Halliwell. She and Mr. Turner got divorced a few months ago. Apparently, she hates him but he's still carrying a torch. Why do you ask?_

_(Oh, and Edwina, just a warning—you really shouldn't use Jackman, Carter, & Kline time and computers for interoffice gossip. I'll let it go this time, since you're new, but you need to respect company time.)_

"Which explains why you're e-mailing me back to lecture instead of just ignoring it," I muttered as I began to type. "Geez. She sounds like the employee rulebook. She probably _wrote _the rulebook."

_To--andreafaulkton_

_From--edwinaarbess_

_Subj--RE--RE--???_

_She came in and asked if he was here. I was just curious. Thanks for the info._

Before I could click "send," Phoebe stormed out of Cole's office. She handed me a business card. "I know this is going to sound really weird, but you're not safe here. If you ever need a job, call this number."

I looked down at the card. "The Bay Mirror?"

"Ask for Phoebe Halliwell."

As she left, I drummed my fingernails on my desk. "Witches work at newspapers?" I murmured.

The door to the office opened and Cole came out, looking a lot less cocky than he had not five minutes ago. "Cancel my two o'clock with Mrs. Isaacs. No. You know what? Cancel everything."

"What? Why?"

"Because I've got better things to do than sign papers."

And with that, he left, leaving me to wonder how exactly I was going to get back to my apartment.

**XXX**

I spent the rest of the day cancelling all of Cole's appointments, citing "unforeseen circumstances" as the reason why (which, in a way, was true). By six o'clock I was done, and ready for the weekend.

I pulled on my herringbone jacket, switched off the desk lamp, and went into Cole's office, hoping he'd left me _some _kind of transport—keys to a company car…a flying carpet…ruby slippers…anything.

There was a small vial of light blue liquid on the desk with a piece of paper underneath it that had my name on it. I picked it up, uncorked it, and sniffed the substance carefully. Was I supposed to drink it? It didn't _look _harmful—sort of like clear diluted food coloring.

After determining that Cole _probably _wouldn't want to poison me, I lifted the bottle to my lips and swallowed the concoction.

The next thing I knew, I was in my living room.

"Thanks, Cole," I said, lifting my eyes upward.

**XXX**

My weekend turned out to be one consisting of an art fair, clothes shopping (or "clothes looking," considering the only things I could afford at the moment were marked-down galoshes), and an interesting tour of the slums due to my bad sense of direction. But through it all, Cole, Phoebe, and their problems stayed in the back of my mind.

_A/N: Short chapter, yes, but the next one is longer. It really didn't fit with this one, so that's why it's only about three and one-third (Ooh! Math!) pages on Word._

_Now…for chapter five!_


	5. Y Tu Eddi Tambien?

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Five: Y Tu Eddi Tambien? **

On Monday, Cole stopped by my apartment at seven-thirty. He was wearing all black and had about two days' worth of five o'clock shadow. Throwing me a set of car keys, he said, "You've just been promoted from passenger to driver."

"What's the occasion?"

"I'm on an insanity vacation."

"Hey, we just made a poem." I held up the keys. "Volvo," I read appreciatively.

"It's silver."

"That seems to be your color," I said. On impulse, I gave him a quick hug. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. You'd lose all credibility if you drove that brown thing to the office."

He faded out, and I marveled at his ability to insult me and make me feel strangely flattered at the same time.

**XXX**

The office was unusually quiet. I spent my time e-mailing Nancy Hansen, my roommate from college. After all, when the person one is supposed to be personally assisting is gone, a personal assistant doesn't have much of a job (although I'm sure Andrea would disagree with me).

As I started my seventh game of the ridiculously annoying Minesweeper, I remembered that Phoebe and I _had _seen each other before. She was the woman I'd met at The Towers when I'd first moved to San Francisco.

"She'd vanquished him before?" I said to myself. "He must either have a death wish or be head over heels in love."

**XXX**

That night, I went directly to Cole's penthouse. When the elevator doors opened, my breath caught in my throat. There was a guillotine in the middle of the living room and shattered glass covering the floor.

"I think he _is _insane," I said, shaking my head.

The door to the bedroom was ajar, and I decided to see if Cole was all right.

He was.

"Hi," I said, knocking on the doorframe softly.

"Edwina." Cole sat up. "What're you doing here?"

"I came up to see how you were and then when I saw the guillotine I thought..."

"That I'd done something stupid," finished Cole. "Well, I did."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Phoebe rejected me. Again. Or rather, the spirit that was _possessing_ her rejected me," he answered, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"And so what are you going to do now?"

"Become a hermit. I've got everything I need right here."

"You'd starve."

Cole waved his hand and a box of Chinese takeout appeared. "Eggroll?"

"No, thanks." I sat down on the bed. "She told me I wasn't safe."

"Phoebe?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"On Friday."

"You're not."

"Why?"

"Edwina, you're working for a demon. That's not the most secure profession." Cole opened the takeout box. "Don't ever fall in love. It's not worth it."

"I _have _fallen in love. Numerous times."

"Right," he scoffed. "Let me guess. You were both in college, had sex twice, and then he dumped you for the head cheerleader."

"Wrong. She was a tennis player."

"I gave up _everything _for her," Cole said, as if he hadn't heard me. "And why? Because I _thought _she loved me!"

I picked at my cuticles, wondering if Emily Post had any advice on proper behavior while hearing about supernatural relationships. "Will...will you tell me about it?"

Cole sighed. "Two and a half years ago, I was assigned to kill the Charmed Ones--Phoebe and her sisters. I was ordered to get close to them, and to do that, I went for the youngest and most gullible."

"Phoebe?" I asked.

"Phoebe. But I..._we_...fell in love. I tried to kill her. When I failed, the Triad tried to kill me. I killed them, so the Source sent bounty hunters after me."

"Sounds quite gruesome."

"Phoebe's sisters found out," Cole continued. "She was supposed to vanquish me. She couldn't, though. She faked it."

"How?"

"With my blood. She cut my hand and put some on my coat and dropped the vanquishing potion on it."

"Interesting," I said.

"I disappeared for about a month, shimmering from place to place to get rid of the bounty hunters." Cole waved his hand and a shotglass of whiskey appeared. "When I came back, Phoebe didn't want anything to do with me. Said the pull of evil would always be too strong." He drank. "But then I helped find Prue, and I saved Phoebe from certain death, so that tipped the scales in my favor."

"Prue? Who's Prue?"

"Phoebe's sister."

"Ah."

"Phoebe and I were fine for another month. Then I went back to my old gang of demons to learn what they were doing so the Charmed Ones could stop them. Raynor realized what I was doing and cast a spell on me to make me kill a witch. That was the ultimate evil in the Halliwell's eyes. Phoebe said she was done with me--again."

"That's twice so far," I murmured.

"I tried everything to get rid of my love for Phoebe, but nothing worked, not even transmuting my blood."

"Transmuting?" I held up my hand. "Never mind. Go on."

"Phoebe came down to the Underworld to break the spell and, while she was with me, Prue was killed by a demon. The Source ordered his guards to kill Phoebe, but we escaped before they could."

"More killing," I said. "It sounds like a dangerous life."

"It is." Cole sighed. "The girls have a younger half-sister named Paige who took Prue's place in the Power of Three. She liked me just about as much as Prue had, and both of their feelings added together didn't even equal dislike."

"Ouch."

"Two months later, my powers were stripped, and I was a human. No bounty hunters, no fireballs, no shimmering...I was just a normal guy." Another shot appeared and he drank it. "Then the girls went up against the Source. The only way for them to defeat him was for me to take in the Hollow. I did, and when I stepped in front of one of the Source's fireballs, I absorbed his powers. The girls vanquished him...or at least that's what they thought."

"Explain?"

"When my demon half was vanquished, there was a void left. The Source's evil powers filled in that void and I was possessed. No one knew until it was too late. I was evil, Phoebe was evil, and our son was evil."

"Son? You had a baby?"

"Phoebe was pregnant with the Source's heir." A third shotglass appeared. "They vanquished the Source again. The only problem was that his spirit was currently occupying my body. I was sent to the demonic wasteland as a human, rather than a glowing mass of energy. I absorbed enough demonic powers so I could come back to our plane and now, here I am." Cole drank the shot and finished his eggroll. "She's afraid that if she'll turn eveil if she's with me. And, to tell the truth, I'm not so sure that she's wrong."

"How do you figure that?"

"I've done horrible things. I've killed people. It's very easy and very natural. My demonic influence _will _rub off on her. I've seen it myself." Cole leaned back against the headboard. "Not that I'll have to worry about that anytime soon. She's made it very clear that she'll never be with me again."

"Okay, you know what? Maybe you screwed up in the past, but you defied death to be with that witch. Doesn't that matter?"

"Not to Phoebe," Cole answered.

I looked at this man--a demon, my boss, and someone that I was becoming friends with (in a strange way)--and felt a rush of sadness. Phoebe Halliwell was clearly the only thing he wanted and, from what I'd seen, he wasn't likely to get her.

To tell the truth, I didn't know why he still loved her. She hated him. How can someone love a person that hates him?

"You should go," Cole said. "Don't expect me in for the rest of the week."

I stood up. "All right. And, Cole, for what it's worth? I'm sorry."

"You're not the only one."

_A/N: In case you can't tell from my oh-so-imaginative chapter title, this installment takes place during and directly after the events of "Y Tu Mummy Tambien?" _

_Thanks to all my reviewers, and for those lurkers out there, drop me a line! Even a few sentences will make my day! _


	6. The Importance Of Being Yourself

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Six: The Importance Of Being Yourself**

Surprisingly, Cole showed up at my door on Friday. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"To work? I thought you were on a mental un-health vacation," I said, slinging my black purse over my shoulder.

"I've had some time to do some thinking, and I've realized that I may not be able to be good, but Phoebe is able to be evil."

"Huh?"

"The Halliwell Manor is built on a spiritual Nexus. If evil gets a hold of it, Phoebe will turn evil, and we'll be together."

"That's funny," I said, "because I thought you wanted to be _good_."

"I want Phoebe."

"You want someone who's hurt you so much?"

"So what are you now? My shrink?"

"No, I'm just a concerned bystander." I shut the door to my apartment and started down the hallway. "Look, I don't have much experience with the supernatural other than my haunted house and you, but I think it would take a lot of willpower to resist the dark side—pardon the _Star Wars _phrase. You've resisted so far, so what makes you want to become a spineless jellyfish _now_?"

"The fact that without Phoebe, I have nothing."

"Here's a suggestion—stop trying so hard. Leave her and her sisters alone for awhile."

"And what am I supposed to do while I'm waiting for her to come back to me? Kieran demons lose their novelty after the first fifteen minutes."

"Ki-what-an demons?" I asked, stepping into the elevator.

"They can morph into anyone or anything," answered Cole.

"And…and what? That's how you entertain yourself while you wait for the real article?"

"A guy's got to have someone."

"That's sick."

**XXX**

We had a major glitch in the computer network at Jackman, Carter, & Kline (I rode with Cole since my Volvo had vanished). Andrea, Rose, Marissa, and I lost everything we had saved, so we spent four hours trying to recover our files. At around one, I finally decided to give up and break the bad news to Cole.

Just was I was getting up from my desk chair, Phoebe pranced out of Cole's office. "You want me," she said to Cole. "I can feel it."

I raised my eyebrows. "That's new."

"Who's this?" asked the African-American man, who standing by Cole's desk.

"This is my assistant, Edwina," Cole said.

"Another Kieran?"

"Please." I rolled my eyes. "I morph for no man."

"She's a little testy," Cole said in an undertone.

"Then maybe I should get rid of her for you. We can't put up with any insolence." The man fixed me with a steady gaze.

"Oh, but she's useful." Cole nodded at me. "Go ahead. Show him."

I widened my eyes at my boss. What was I supposed to do? Break out in song?

Cole nodded again and I felt myself change shape.

"She's an Arbess demon," said Cole. "Very rare. They're master schemers."

"We're quite secretive," I put in, and discovered that I sounded like Phoebe Halliwell.

"Arbess," the man repeated. "I'll have to remember that."

He left, and I crossed my (Phoebe's?) arms. "And the reason for this was…"

"Dex is suspicious of mortals," Cole explained. "You could have ended up as ash."

"I seem to remember you threatening me with that same fate two weeks ago."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have my secretary spread all over my office."

I laughed. "It's comforting to know you care."

The door to the office banged open. "You slimy son of a…oh my God."

I turned around to see Phoebe Halliwell, dressed differently than the one I'd seen not three minutes ago.

"Phoebe?" Cole asked. "Is that you?"

"What are you, evil _and_ blind? Yeah, it's me!" Phoebe snapped. "The question is, who the hell is that?"

"I'm Eddi," I said. "We met last Friday."

"You're personal assistant is a shape-shifting demon?" demanded Phoebe.

"Oh, no. I did that."

"You _what_?" Phoebe shook her head. "I do not believe this. You're using your secretary for your own sick pleasures."

"He was possibly saving my life," I said.

"Please."

"Phoebe, did you come here for any reason in particular?" Cole asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did," said Phoebe. "Admit that you're behind what's been happening to me and my sisters. Admit it so that I can use magic to fight you."

Cole shuffled some papers around on his desk. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Phoebe slammed the door and pushed past me. "Look, Cole. My career is _the _most important thing to me. Okay, so is that your big plan, to take it _away _from me so that I come running to you for comfort?"

I stepped back, knowing that I should leave the office. I couldn't, though, because I knew whatever was going to happen in here would be a lot more exciting that what was probably going on in the employees' lounge.

"Phoebe, I love you, and…I don't know what's going on, but…maybe I could help," Cole said. "Would you like me to kill someone for you? Your…your boss, perhaps."

Phoebe let out an angry breath and threw a stack of papers in the air.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey," Cole protested, raising his arms to shield himself. "HEY!"

"I might not be able to use magic, but-"

"You're sexy when you're mad, you know," interrupted Cole. "I can't wait until I get to kiss you again."

I rolled my eyes.

"Cole, I will never be with you again," Phoebe said. "I hate you. I. Hate. You. Do you get that?"

"Hate is good," said Cole. "It's passionate, intense, it's…it's a breath away from _love_!"

Cole grinned and Phoebe laughed thinly. She tossed one more paper at Cole and stalked out of the office.

"She's great."

"Yeah. Peachy." I looked down at my body. "Would you mind changing me back now, because-"

The door opened again and a blonde came in.

"What do you want?" Cole asked.

The blonde looked at me. "Who's that?"

"Someone better than you'll ever be."

"Oh yeah?" The blonde morphed into yet another Phoebe Halliwell and I felt my head spin. "Try me."

"Get out."

"Baby, all I want is to give you what you want."

"What _I _want is to get out of the Twilight Zone and fix my computer," I said.

"Oh," Cole said, looking over at me. "Eddi, this is Kaia. Kaia, Eddi."

"Is she a Kieran?"

"No. I'm an Arbess. Much rarer. Much classier," I replied, beginning to enjoy my new demonic seductress role.

I heard the door open and I groaned. Cole Turner's office was turning into Grand Central Station.

"What the…" A female voice trailed off and I spun around. Two women were standing in the doorway.

"Piper," Cole said. "Paige. This is a surprise."

"What the hell is going on?" the brunette shrieked.

"Easy." Cole covered his ears. "People are trying to work."

"I'm Eddi," I said.

"Kaia." The blonde twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

"So neither of you is the real Phoebe?" asked the redhead.

"No," I replied. "She just left."

"Did she yell at him?" The brunette pointed to Cole and I nodded. "Well, now it's my turn," she said. "Cole, what kind of demented plot are you trying to pull off?"

"Pull off? Piper, I'm not-"

"Don't give me that. Paige is under arrested, Phoebe is being sued, P3 is about to go under, and you're telling me that you have absolutely _nothing _to do with any of this?"

"All right, I confess," Cole said. "The brilliant Charmed Ones have struck again. So what are you going to do?" He stood up. "Report me for use of demonic powers?"

"No, we thought that vanquishing you would be easier," said the redhead—Paige.

"I'm sorry, but you must have missed the part about me being indestructible."

"Cole, we've got the world's most powerful good magic on our side," said Piper, as if she was speaking to a five-year-old. "We'll find a way."

"Oh really?" Cole snarled.

"Yeah," snapped Piper. "So are you going to fix the mess that you've created for us?"

"I don't know. After all, you've got the world's most powerful good magic on your side. You'll find a way."

"Not funny."

There was a tense silence, which Cole broke by saying, "Fine. I'll reverse it."

"Why?" Paige asked. "I mean, you went to all the trouble of screwing our lives up, why stop now?"

"Because my plan was ruined about the time you two barged in here," responded Cole.

"And what plan was that?" Piper prodded.

"Be glad you don't know." Cole looked at Kaia. "Leave."

"You know I'll be back, honey."

She disappeared and I rocked back and forth on my/Phoebe's heels. "Are you planning on turning me back anytime soon?"

Cole waved his hand at me and I felt myself return to normal.

"Wait," Paige said. "She's not a demon?"

"No. And, before you say anything else, it's not what you're thinking."

Piper and Paige exchanged glances.

"We'd better go," said Piper. "You'll reverse whatever demonic crap you did?"

"Demon's honor." Cole held up two fingers.

The sisters left the office and Cole and I were alone.

"That was fun," I said dryly.

"Welcome to my world."

"Are you really going to do it?"

"What?"

"Reverse what you did."

"Yes."

"Good. Can I ask why?"

"Because you were right," said Cole. "Phoebe will never take me back if I ruin her life." He looked at his watch. "I'm going to lunch. Do you want anything?"

"Nope, but thanks for offering."

As he left his office, I let out a breath that I felt like I'd been holding since I'd morphed into Phoebe. "Just a typical day in the life of a demon's secretary, I guess."

_A/N: Okay, I have a hand cramp from typing this now. It only took me about twenty minutes…yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm bragging. ;) _

_Some of the dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from "The Importance of Being Phoebe." Most is word-for-word, a bit of it has been intermingled with original stuff or changed around to fit this universe's situation. I hope you liked this section/part/segment/slice/division (gee, Word's synonym finder is fun)! _

_This chapter marks the turning point where this fic is going to go A/U...and that's been a message from the Incredibly Obvious Station..._

_Thank you to all who've reviewed...imagine me throwing kisses!_


	7. Adjusting Slowly

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Seven: Adjusting Slowly**

I slept late the next morning. The events of the day before had zapped my energy. (How demons did it, I'll never know.) When I opened my eyes, I thought I saw the remains of one of Cole's fade-outs, but dismissed it as being still asleep.

"Or not," I said aloud as my gaze fell on the black and silver striped kimono-style dress hanging off of the top of my doorframe. There was a note affixed to it that said:

_Hope this is the right size._

_--Cole _

"Concise," I said, and laughed. "I love it."

**XXX**

The dress turned out to be the first of many things to appear in my apartment that rainy Saturday. By noon, I had a new black clutch, tall black Prada boots, and a silver trenchcoat that was identical to the one that I'd fawned over the past weekend. By the time the dark green cashmere V-neck sweater that I'd tried up but regretfully turned down arrived, I decided to pay Cole a little visit and ask if he was having me followed.

As the elevator neared the penthouse, I heard piano music and the sound of people laughing. The doors opened to reveal a group of people in black-tie clothes. Cole was surrounded by several women dressed like they belonged at Fashion Week in Paris, not Lounging Weekend in San Francisco.

"Eddi!" Cole said, breaking free from his entourage. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I don't expect to be staying," I said. "I just came to-"

"You need wine. You need a different outfit." Cole waved his hand at me and I Felt my jeans and maroon turtleneck turn into a black strapless dress. "Perfect."

I rubbed my temples. "Is there a reason _why _you're having a party at one o'clock in the afternoon?"

"I'm keeping myself busy while I wait for Phoebe." He grabbed me around my waist. "Care to dance?"

"I'd rather talk, if it's all the same to you," I said.

Cole snapped his fingers and the people disappeared. "Keep the dress. It looks fantastic."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a smile spread across my face. "You don't have to give me clothes. The pay at work isn't _that _bad."

"Oh yes, I do. You saved me from making an even bigger ass out of myself than I already had. And for that," (a glass of wine appeared in my hand) "I am extremely grateful." He clinked his wineglass against mine. "I hope everything fits. You're a…what, six, eight?"

"Eight," I answered. "But seriously, a card would have sufficed. Not that I'm complaining."

"You know, you're so much different than Phoebe. Sarcastic…loyal…"

"That's the champagne, or wine, or whatever it is talking," I said, trying to figure out the point of the abrupt subject shift. "I think you're in the early stages of being drunk."

"It's five o'clock somewhere." Cole grabbed my waist again. "Have you ever been to Rome?"

"No."

"I could take you." He extended his hand. "I wonder how you'd look as a blonde."

I pushed it away. "Sorry, but I'm quite fond of brown, as boring as that may be."

"Just offering. Phoebe was a blonde when we met," Cole said absently.

I patted his shoulder. "You can conjure me a white silk suit."

"Brand?"

"Something Italian."

"Done."

"I hope you enjoyed that, because that's the last thing you'll create for me. Wearing clothes that my boss created isn't the best way to become friends with the other secretaries," I said, looking at my watch. "I'd better go. See you Monday?"

Cole let me go somewhat reluctantly. "Right." And then, for a split second, he pressed his lips against mine. "Monday," he murmured.

"Monday," I responded softly, pulling away and walking towards the elevator.

Only when I was in the safety of its' confined space did I start singing "Monday, Monday" and admiring my dress. I didn't know if Cole was giving me all of this attention only because he was attempting to get over Phoebe, but I really didn't care. If it would stop him from messing with the Halliwells, I was all for it.

And, yes, I'll admit it. He was handsome, witty, and charming (minus the demonic part, of course).

But I couldn't focus on that. I would help him get over Phoebe and then I'd move on.

Ha.

"I'm an author-slash-secretary, not a psychiatrist," I said as the doors opened and I twirled out of the elevator, grinning as the skirt swished around my legs.

**XXX**

On Monday, I was ready before Cole ever knocked on my door. (_Way _before. Half an hour before, to be exact.) I was wearing my new white suit with a purple shirt underneath and prayed that I wouldn't spill coffee all over myself, like I had the previous week. My shoes matched the purple shirt, which was a bit of a miracle, since nothing I owned usually matched.

_Finally _there was a knock at my door. I leaped up to get it and fell over a stack of magazines.

"You okay in there?" Cole called.

"Yeah…just killing myself." I got up, winced, and opened the door. "Hi."

"Hi."

I ran my hand through my hair. "Do I ever get my Volvo back?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"You said you didn't want me to conjure anything else for you, so I won't."

"I knew I was being too moral when I said that."

"Well, you get your first paycheck this week, so-"

"I do?"

"You're well on your way to becoming Edwina Arbess, working woman."

"And demoness on the side," I added.

"Ah, yes. We can't forget that."

**XXX**

With most of the computer files recovered, I was able to relax. After sending a thank-you e-mail to Dandelion (Mr. Jackman's gypsyish-yet-computer-savvy secretary), I went into Cole's office with his coffee.

"So," I said, setting the cup down, "now that you're back, should I re-schedule your appointments that I cancelled two weeks ago?"

"Nah. If they want me, _they _can call."

"Then that leaves your schedule for today clear."

"Don't I have that Olson/McClowsky deal?"

"Mr. Gillis took that when you left."

"What about the Raymond estate?"

"That's now Mr. Kline's."

"Okay, what _do _I have for today?"

"Like I said, according to your schedule, nothing." I felt a sinking feeling as I realized what Cole might do if he had no work that needed to be done. "Promise me that you will _not _plan anything demonically wonderful."

"It's not in my nature to sit around and wait for an assignment," Cole said.

"Try Minesweeper."

**XXX**

Around three-thirty, I heard crashing coming from Cole's office. I rushed in, ready to defend myself from any demons, and burst out laughing. Cole Turner, my usually collected and supernatural boss was standing amidst a sea of papers and a filing cabinet drawer.

"What happened?" I asked, covering my mouth with my hands.

"I thought I'd re-organize my files and I pulled out this drawer and…"

"What, you don't have a re-organizing power?" I asked.

"I'm not using my powers anymore," insisted Cole.

"Cole," I said, "welcome to the world of picking up your own messes."

"You're not going to help me with this?"

"Un-uh."

"But-"

"Look at it this way—it'll keep you busy for the rest of the day."

I left, leaving Cole to deal with the lovely disaster he had created.

"Well," I said to myself, "at least it wasn't a _supernatural _mess."

**XXX**

Bang.

Slam.

Crash.

Papers scattering.

"DAMN IT."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't believe this." I got up from my desk and went into Cole's office. "Having problems with those evil filing cabinets again?"

"There's something wrong with them. If you pull them out more than eight inches, the whole thing falls out," Cole growled

"You have to be _gentle_."

"I've got a fact-finding meeting in five minutes. Will you deal with this?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Cole left and I groaned, getting down on my knees to pick up the papers. Ever since he'd gotten on his "no magical powers" kick, my workload had tripled. Suits needed to be dropped off at the drycleaner's. Garbage cans needed to be emptied. Files needed to be…filed.

"But he's not messing with anyone or disintegrating innocent people with energy balls," I said firmly. "And that is what matters. My sanity, on the other hand, does not."

_A/N: I originally intended for this to be two chapters, but once it was typed out, I decided that it was too short. _

_Thank you for the lovely reviews—you guys are great._


	8. An Eventful Evening

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Eight: An Eventful Evening**

I'd been in San Francisco for just over a month when I received the call that I'd been dreading.

My family was coming to visit.

Don't get me wrong—I _love _my family. They put me through college. They understood when I didn't apply for the "Out & About" reporter job at the Modesto Sun, which would have allowed me to live closer to them. They helped me pack and cried when I left home to move to San Francisco. But to have my dad call and _tell _me—not _ask_, mind you—that he, Mom, and my younger sister Viv were coming to stay with me for a weekend was a chink to my independence.

And what's worse, Cole and I had a date Saturday night.

I'd been in Cole's office on Thursday doing some filing when he looked up from the papers he was reading. "You know," he said, "I never got to see you in that black and silver dress."

"It's not really office wear."

"But it _is _dinner wear. Wait, that sounds like silverware."

I chuckled.

"How about if you and I go someplace Saturday? You wear the dress, I'll do crowd control?"

"Cole, you don't have to flatter me. I told you, filing is my job." Under my breath I added, "Actually, more like my _existence_ ever since you went on your 'no-magic' kick."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I was serious about dinner."

"You really want to date your secretary?" I asked. "It sounds like the beginning of one of those romance novels with a poorly-drawn picture on the cover. What're they called? 'Workplace Romances'? "

"I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday."

"I guess I just said yes." I shut the filing cabinet. "I'd love to go out to dinner with you."

But now the only thing I'd be doing at seven on Saturday would be listening to my dad tell grotesque emergency room stories, my mom tell grotesque community college biology stories, and Viv tell grotesque eleventh grade study hall stories.

I picked up the phone and dialed Cole's number. "Why couldn't they have come _last _weekend? Or why couldn't Dad have asked when a good time would be, instead of _telling _me when they're coming? I am a grown woman with a blooming social life and damn it, Cole, why aren't you answering your phone?"

I hung up, annoyed, and left my apartment for the penthouse.

"'Cole'," I began, rehearsing what I was going to say to him, "'I hate to tell you this, but I have to cancel for Saturday.' No. Postpone. Postpone is better. 'Cole, I have to _postpone _our date for Saturday. My family's coming from Modesto to see me. I would have told you sooner if I would have known.'"

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out. "Cole? Where are you?"

"In here," he called from the kitchen.

"What're you doing?"

"Just some home repair."

"Home repair?" I repeated. "He can't even pull out a filing cabinet correctly and he's doing _home repair_?"

"I heard that."

I pushed the kitchen door open. Cole was standing over the sink with a wrench and a pliers. "It's dripping," he explained.

"Ever think of calling the landlord?"

"It's nothing I can't handle." Cole turned around. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Well, I mean, something, but it's not really a _big _something." I shook my head. "That was called babbling, in case you were wondering." I paused. "Dad called this afternoon when I got home, and he, my mom, and my little sister are coming to visit me tomorrow. I wish I would have know sooner so I could have told you, but I didn't. Can we re-schedule dinner?"

"How's tonight?"

"Tonight? You'll be able to find a place that'll take us without reservations that doesn't have rodent problems?" I asked incredulously. "And without using your demonic powers? You _are _something."

"I happen to know that the firm keeps a table reserved at Margolis for entertaining clients. Can you be ready at eight?"

"You bet." I grinned. "Good luck with your repairs."

"Thanks. You wouldn't happen to know anything about ovens, would you?" Cole asked hopefully.

"Yeah, actually, I do. Step one is to call Mr. Marx."

**XXX**

When my doorbell rang an hour and a half later, my hair was still in curlers and I was searching for my black pumps.

"I still have ten minutes!" I hollered.

"Ten minutes for what?"

I froze in place. "Please, let that be Cole with just an extremely high voice," I whispered.

"Edwina? Sweetheart?"

I yanked the door open. "Mom?"

My mother hugged me and I was overwhelmed by the scent of some Elizabeth Taylor perfume. When she let me go, she was smiling broadly. "You're beautiful," she appraised.

"Thank you," I said cautiously. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what exactly are you doing here?"

"Visiting my favorite twenty-four year-old daughter."

"You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow," I said.

Mom furrowed her eyebrows. "No, I told Dad to tell you that we were coming on Friday and staying until Sunday afternoon. Didn't he say that to you on the phone?"

"He said you were coming on Saturday."

"Great. Wonderful job, Fred." Mom shook her head.

"There you are!" Dad came around a corner with Viv, whose hair was now platinum blonde. "This place is so darn confusing."

"Fred, you told Edwina that we'd be here tomorrow," said Mom tersely.

"Only because that's what _you_ said."

"You're going deaf."

"Let's go inside," I suggested, looking down at my watch. I had just over six minutes to come up with something to tell Cole.

My family followed me into the apartment and I yanked out my curlers. "Do you guys have suitcases?" I asked.

"We left them in the car," answered Mom. "It wouldn't make much sense to wander around with luggage and look like a tourist, now would it?"

"I guess not. You three should go get your bags and I'll tidy up in here."

"All right," Dad said. "Will your remember how to get back up here, Wanda?"

"I think so."

My parents and Viv left, and I began to pace. Cole was going to be here any moment and I would have to explain to him that since my father only half-listened to anyone who wasn't paying him for his time, dinner was out of the question.

The doorbell rang as I was putting on my shoes, which had been under the couch.

"Is that you, Cole?" I called.

"Are you expecting someone else?"

"'Expecting' isn't really the right word." I opened the door. "Guess what."

"Your family's here," said Cole.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"They got into the elevator when I got out."

"Was it that obvious that they were related to me?"

"I took a guess. Right age, right number of people."

"You have common sense in addition to your demonic powers!" I praised. "I'm impressed."

"As well you should be." Cole put his hands on my shoulders. "Anyway, about your family."

"Yeah."

"The table at Margolis seats six."

"You want to bring Mom and Dad and Viv with us?"

"Let's put it this way—dinner with you and your family beats another night of Chinese from Wong Pak's."

I laughed. "You," I said, kissing him quickly, "are amazing. I _will _make this up to you, I promise."

The door opened and Mom sang out, "We're back! _Oh_…"

"Explanation time," I muttered to Cole. "Cole, this is my mother, Wanda…and my dad, Fred. Where's Viv?"

"I'm here." She leaned up against the doorframe. "Who's he?"

"This is my…my…this is my _friend_," I said finally, opting for what I thought would be the safest term, "Cole Turner."

"Your friend?" asked Dad. "Does that word have the prefix 'boy' attached to it?"

_He may not listen much, but he's an awfully big gossip_, I thought as I said firmly, "He's a friend."

"Right," snorted Viv.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed to Cole, then turned back to my obtrusive family. "Are you ready to go?"

"Go where?" asked Dad.

"To dinner," I said brightly. "You three had better get dressed."

"Where are we going?" Mom asked. "Is it formal?"

"Pretty much," I replied.

"Great," said Viv. "That means I have to wear a skirt."

"Awww," I crooned sarcastically. "Mom, you and Dad have the guest room, and the little blonde gothic girl can have mine."

"What, are you not going to stay here tonight?" Viv cast her glance at Cole and wiggled her shoulders suggestively.

I sneered at her. "Go put on a skirt."

The room cleared out and I flopped down on the couch. "Ack."

Cole sat down next to me. "And you lived with her?" he asked.

"Don't remind me."

"If it's any consolation, you look fantastic in that dress."

"Thank you." I patted Cole's shoulder. "Our relationship is going pretty fast," I began, emulating my high school home ec teacher. "You've met my parents. We've had the past affairs talk. We've been to each other's workplaces. We're practically engaged."

"You're full of it. I hope you know that."

"Believe me, I do."

Cole leaned towards me and kissed me. "Monday, Monday" by The Mamas & The Papas began playing in my head, but was cut off by Viv proclaiming, "I knew it!"

"Feel free to use any demonic power you want to on _her_," I said to Cole.

"At least she's not trying to vanquish me."

"So exactly how many times _did _the Halliwells try to kill you?" I pulled a stray curler from my hair.

"There was the original Belthazor hunt…and then the Banshee thing…did you mean just in general or with a potion?"

"Potion."

"Four. They only succeeded once, though, and I managed to get out of that in the end."

"Oh. I was just curious."

**XXX**

At the restaurant (Cole and I took the Porsche; Mom, Dad, and Viv took their sensible maroon Buick), the barrage of questions began.

"How long have you two known each other?" (That would be Mom.)

"Do you have a brother?" (Viv, naturally.)

"What was your name again?" (And that was Dad.)

It was a bit difficult to explain how we met. "He tried to kill me with an energy ball" didn't exactly roll off the tongue. I said something vaguely about meeting Cole at the apartment. The less details, the better, as far as I was concerned.

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Burner?" Dad asked as the waiter left with our orders.

"Turner, Dad," I corrected. "_Turner_."

"I'm an attorney for Jackman, Carter, & Kline," Cole said to my father.

"Isn't that where you work, Edwina?" Mom asked me, and I nodded.

"A workplace romance," cooed Viv. "How cliché."

"See?" I muttered to Cole.

"My grandmother always said to never date anyone you work with or are related to," Dad said sagely, taking a sip of his water.

"Quite the fountain of knowledge," Cole said.

"I'm actually Cole's personal assistant," I said, hoping to direct the conversation away from my great-grandmother's wisdom.

"I dated an attorney once," Mom said thoughtfully. "He was sent to jail for forgery."

"I didn't know you dated an attorney," said Dad. "When?"

"College."

"You dated _me _in college."

"Only when I was a senior. Mike was during sophomore year."

"He was an attorney when he was a sophomore?"

"He was in _school _to be an attorney."

I looked across the table to Cole and rolled my eyes. He smiled and took a sip of his wine, but froze with it halfway to his lips.

"What?" I mouthed.

"Behind you," he mouthed back.

I looked over my shoulder and saw the three Halliwell sisters. Phoebe held up her champagne glass. "A toast," she said.

"To what?" asked Piper.

"To me," Phoebe answered. "I have not heard from Cole in over a week. I think he's finally moving on."

"I don't know, Phoebs," said Paige. "We still need to find a way to get rid of him for good."

"But not tonight," Piper said. "I agree with Phoebe. Let's celebrate."

I turned back to Cole. He raised his hand up and everything seemed to be in uber slow-motion.

"How am I supposed to move on when she keeps popping up?" he demanded.

"Cole?"

Okay, so maybe not _everything _was in slow motion.

I turned around and saw Phoebe stand up. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Having dinner. The last time I checked, that was still legal in the state of California."

"Isn't that your secretary?"

I nodded. "The one and only."

"Nice to see you looking like yourself again."

"Great choice of restaurants, Piper," said Paige.

"Well, forgive me for not asking for their guest list," Piper replied.

"You guys, let's go," said Phoebe. "This restaurant isn't big enough for the five of us."

Paige shook her head. "But-"

"No." Phoebe shook her head. "I'm not spending the night that's supposed to be a celebration of my freedom ten feet away from the man who ruined our lives."

"Ruined _your _lives?" I reiterated.

Cole waved his hand and the movement returned to normal. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave," he said.

"So soon?" Mom asked.

"It's work. Nice to meet you all."

I watched Cole as he walked across the restaurant. "I'll be right back."

After getting up and walking calmly past most of the diners, I broke into a run. "Cole!"

"Leave me alone," he said, not breaking his stride.

I caught up to him. "I'm sorry."

"Why? That my ex-wife can't even stand to be in the same room as me?" He stopped and leaned against the brick entryway wall. "We used to be in love. She said she still loved me. I…damn it, Phoebe!" He hit the wall with his fist. "She was all I knew. Without her, I have nothing."

The true depth of his pain was beginning to sink in. Breakups were painful for anybody, but factor in what he'd given up for Phoebe…no wonder he had been slowly going insane.

Phoebe, Piper, and Paige were by the door to the entrance and I motioned for them to come out. When they did, I put my hands on my hips. "I don't know why the personal assistant job at Jackman, Carter, & Kline doesn't have some sort of clause that warns about having to mediate between witches and a demon."

"No offense, Eddi, but this is really none of your business," said Phoebe.

"I know," I said.

"But as long as we're all here, you might as well talk to him," Piper pointed out.

"What?"

"Come on, Miss Degree-In-Psychology, you _know _that you two should deal with your issues," said Paige.

Phoebe sighed. "Fine. Cole, you evil demonic freak, leave me alone." She pushed past her sisters, me, and Cole. She gasped and froze when her shoulder brushed Cole's.

"What is it?" asked Piper.

"Flowers…music…_oh_." Phoebe opened her eyes.

"What'd you see?"

"Later."

They left and I rasied my eyebrows. "What was that about?"

"Phoebe must have had a premonition."

"About music and flowers? Does that mean that San Francisco's on the brink of another hippie movement?"

"With me as the leader of it? Her visions are related to whatever she's touching."

"Come to think of it, I can't see you in love beads." I smiled. "Come on. Let's see how fast a Porsche can go."

"You should stay here with your family," said Cole. "Rein in your sister."

"She just needed an audience," I said. "Someone who still thinks she's witty and charming, not annoying and obnoxious. Besides, you asked _me _out, not my family. I'll go back in and tell them that we're leaving."

"How are you going to explain?"

"I'll say that the firm is having some crisis and we have to sort it out. Wait right here, okay?"

Inside the restaurant, Mom was looking around anxiously, Dad was reading the wine menu, and Viv was reading _Popular Mechanics _(don't ask).

"Edwina," Mom said. "I thought you left."

"I did. I mean, I'm going to. Here," I said, digging my Visa card out of my black clutch. "It's on me. You know how to get back to the apartment?"

"Yep," said Viv, not looking up from her magazine.

"Honey, is something wrong?" Mom put her hand on my arm.

"Work," I said. "That's why Cole left so suddenly. His pager went off and he had to call the firm. Turns out that there's an emergency staff meeting."

"You have to go back to work at nine o'clock on a Friday night?" Dad shook his head.

"I know, I know, but, as of three and a half weeks ago, it's what I do. See you later."

Cole was still in the entryway. "They bought it?" he asked as I shut the door.

"They always do."

**XXX**

"So she saw something with you that involved music and flowers," I said, looking around the penthouse at The Towers. "A wedding, maybe?"

"I can't picture Phoebe taking me back anytime soon," said Cole, leaning against the doorframe that led from the kitchen to the dining room.

"Well, maybe you weren't getting married to her."

"Who else would I be marrying?"

"How should I know?" I sat down on the white sofa, paused, and then stood up. "Look, it's incredibly obvious that you still love her, and that's why I'm leaving."

"What? Eddi-"

"Cole, I like you. I really do."

"But you want to keep our relationship professional."

"You need to work out your feelings for Phoebe before I get more involved than I am," I said, silently congratulating myself on what I considered to be a good decision. "I'll see you on Monday."

I walked towards the elevator, an incessant chorus of "you're doing the right thing" playing against "stupid stupid he's hurt and you're leaving him" in my head.

Cole appeared in front of me.

"I thought you weren't using demonic powers anymore," I said.

"Only in extreme cases," replied Cole.

"And this qualifies as an extreme case?"

And, for the second time that night, Cole kissed me. The changing in my head switched to "he's rebounding" and "who cares?"

After what seemed like an eternity, I drew back. "Was that Phoebe-induced?"

"Not everything is about Phoebe."

"Was that?"

"No."

"You're telling the truth?"

"Eddi, I still love Phoebe. But you're…you're different," Cole said finally.

"How?"

"For one thing, you don't hate me."

"That's true." I smiled.

"Phoebe is successful. She's sophisticated, but she's got a naïve side to her."

"And you're saying I'm _not _naïve? In case you've forgotten, I walked into a stranger's penthouse."

"You're harsher," said Cole. "Classier. And you're not attached to your sisters at the hip."

"Harsh, classy, and independent," I said. "I like the sound of that."

We kissed again, and this time, I didn't draw back.

_A/N: This is by far the longest chapter for this fic that I've written. Originally it was supposed to be two chapters, but I realized that it would flow better as one really long one. _

_Muchas gracias to my fabulous readers and reviewers! _


	9. Centennial Customary

_A/N: Just a quick thing before you begin this section of the saga—this chapter switches into third person. Why? Well…read and find out._

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Nine: Centennial Customary**

Cole Turner got out of bed quietly, as not to disturb the sleeping Edwina Arbess.

_Eddi_, he mentally corrected herself. _She's Eddi_. He'd refrained from calling his secretary by her nickname in order to keep himself from getting to familiar with her. But after what had transpired that evening, worrying about being too familiar with her would be, in a word, stupid.

"Cole," a voice said. "I need to discuss something with you."

He turned around to see the grey-haired Avatar on the veranda. "You," he said. "What is it?"

"We need an answer," the Avatar said. "You can't remain ambivalent about our offer for any longer."

"Who says I can't?"

"It's the mortal, isn't it? Edwina." The Avatar shook his head. "Cole, she's pithy. Her love for you will wither, just as Phoebe's did."

"Don't mention Phoebe," Cole said. His voice had undertones that anyone with an IQ that was above thirteen would recognize as dangerous.

The Avatar walked into the penthouse. "If you join us, the Collective will be at a place where it hasn't been in centuries. You need to resolve this issue tonight," he continued in an infuriatingly calm voice.

Cole formed an energy ball in his hand, but paused as he was about to throw it. That wouldn't work. He'd tried it before.

"I'll give you a moment." The Avatar clasped his hands behind his back.

Cole tied his robe as he thought about what was being proposed. Avatars had unlimited powers, which meant that they could bend time and space. If he accepted their offer, he could manipulate reality into one where he was with Phoebe.

But…there was Eddi. Sarcastic, levelheaded, self-governing Eddi. What would she say if she knew that he was considering uniting with the Avatars?

_"Don't you have _enough _powers?" _

_"I think you'd better learn how to properly treat office furniture before you think about becoming an Aviator, or whatever they're called."_

_"No. Just…no." _

"I made my decision," Cole said finally.

"Good," the Avatar replied, pleased. "I'll call Beta and we'll begin the chant."

"I'm turning you down."

"What?"

"You heard me. I've rejected your offer," said Cole.

"It's because of Edwina." The Avatar sighed. "When are you going to learn that you are not able to handle relationships?"

"Since when did Avatars become psychiatrists?" Cole shot back.

"These powers that you have will eventually kill you if you do not direct them into something constructive," the Avatar continued. "If you unite with us, you'll have purpose. Meaning."

"I do have purpose and meaning," said Cole. "And besides, I'm not exactly the 'poster boy for teamwork,' as a certain witch once informed me."

"You could lead a charmed life."

"Well, then, I'll have to settle for a customary one, because you're crazy to think I'd want to become one of you."

"All right, then." The Avatar shook his head. "You eventually will have no other choice than to come to us."

As the unwelcome visitor disappeared, Cole felt a mix of relief and apprehension.

_A/N: Okay, want to hear my traumatic story for the day? I had this typed out…it was wonderful…and then I closed Microsoft Word and clicked "no" when it asked if I wanted to save it._

_Naturally, I screamed._

_But here it is, hopefully even improved a little bit. _


	10. The Morning Afternoon

**More Than She Bargained For**  
**  
Chapter Ten: The Morning Afternoon **

I woke up the next morning with a smile on my face, as cliché, cheesy, and utterly ridiculous as that might sound. Cole wasn't in the bedroom, so I got up, pulled on his dark blue dress shirt, and shuffled through the living room into the kitchen. "Good morning."

Cole shut the refrigerator. "Hi."

"Maybe I misread the one-night stand handbook, but isn't the man supposed to stare adoringly at his lover until she awakes?" I asked, opening a cupboard. "Ritz crackers? Why in the world do you have Ritz crackers?"

"I tried that, and it ended up getting me vanquished," answered Cole, ignoring my comment about his food supply. "And what makes you think that this is going to be only a one-night stand?"

"Just guessed."

"Coffee?"

"Please." I accepted the cup Cole handed to me. "I feel like I'm forgetting something."

"Something important?"

"Kind of. Like…oh no," I moaned. "Yes, something important! Three very important things that are at this moment in my apartment, wondering why I haven't made an appearance yet!"

"Would their names be Fred, Wanda, and Viv?" Cole asked.

"Bingo."

"I'll fade you down there. Take my hand."

I obeyed and found myself (with Cole) in my bedroom.

"Thank you." I kissed him. "Thank you. Thank you."

"I heard it. See you later."

"'Bye."

He faded out and I flopped down on my bed.

There was a knock at the door. "Edwina?"

"Mom?" I frantically crawled under the covers.

The door opened. "Edwina, it's almost ten-thirty. How long was your meeting last night?" Mom asked.

"Long," I said.

"I thought so. You weren't here when we got back from the restaurant."

"When was that?"

"Eleven o'clock."

"It's more like the morning after_noon,_" I said under my breath.

Mom had a look of concern across her face. "Are they good employers?"

"Of course they are."

Mom sighed. "Should I start breakfast?"

"Good idea. I'll be right out.

The door closed.

"I slept with my demonic boss," I said to the ceiling. "That sounds so screwed up." Groaning, because of my horrible choice of men, I added, "But I think I'm falling in love."

**XXX**

The rest of the weekend passed smoothly. No one mentioned Friday night's dinner, but Cole was certainly talked about, especially by Mom.

"He's very handsome, Edwina."

"An attorney makes good money, you know."

"He's so _gallant_."

But what surprised me the most was what was said on Sunday breakfast by my father.

"That young man has eyes for you, you know."

I dropped the society column from The Bay Mirror. "It's that obvious?"

"He stared at you for the entire evening," said Dad. "You've got an admirer."

"Cole's a little more than that," I said, marveling that my father had dragged his mind away from his work long enough to notice my…well, _whatever _he was.

"I knew he was your boyfriend."

"That's not really the word for it."

"Then what is the word?" Viv put in smugly. "Friend with benefits?"

"That happens to be three words," I said.

"Whatever."

Dad stood up. "Whoever this Cole is, he's into you."

I felt a ghost of a smile flicker on my face, caused in part my dad trying to use a popular phrase in normal conversation. "I hope so."

**XXX**

After my parents had left, I sat down at my kitchen table with a pad and pen. I was going to make a list of the qualifications I wanted in a man so I would know enough _not _to get involved with someone still in love with his ex-wife.

_The Man That I Marry Must Be…_

"No." I scribbled out the first line. "'The Man That I Get _Involved With _Must Be.' No sense putting pressure on myself."

_The Man That I Get Involved With Must Be…_

_Stable _

"So he's not likely to kill me with an energy ball anytime soon," I murmured.

_Witty_

_Intelligent _

_Unique _

"Although being a demon certainly qualifies as 'unique.'"

_In love with ME _

"…not Phoebe Halliwelll."

_Able to tolerate my oddities _

I scanned the list, satisfied, and remembered my ninth grade guidance class assignment. We were all supposed to create a list of qualities we wanted "in a mate" (as Mrs. Hakarpa put it). Mine had consisted of:

_Not likely to flip out on me_

_Funny_

_Smart_

_Different_

_Crazy about YOURS TRULY!!!!!!!!! _

_Likes my weirdness _

So in other words, my qualifications for a man hadn't changed that much…just my wording of them.

I stood up, stretched, and padded into my bedroom. It looked like a hotel room. Come to think of it, Cole's bedroom did too, although I supposed that he didn't spend much time hanging around there.

Cole…what was I supposed to do about him? Aiming for a relationship would be suicide. He loved Phoebe. I was sure of that.

I flipped on the television. Questions like that would have to be resolved after _CSI. _

_A/N: There you have it: the morning after in Eddi's point of view. The last section is completely new, but I figured to include a little bit of our leading lady contemplating the way she wanted her love life to go. _


	11. The Three Points of the Triangle

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Eleven: The Three Points of the Triangle**

Everything should have been perfect. I had a job, I had a love interest, and I had finally gotten a laptop with an obscure brand that gave no clue to the country it had originated from. My life was falling into place.

Or so I kept telling myself.

"What's your problem?" I asked myself as I pulled on the black turtleneck that Viv had once threatened to burn as punishment for my wearing it to death. "Everything is fine. _Fine_."

There was a knock on the door and I scurried to open it. I knew who it was before I did, but I certainly didn't expect what he was about to give me.

"Keys?" I asked.

"Keys," said Cole affirmatively.

This should have made me happy. Part one, I'd just received a free car that was guaranteed to get me around San Francisco without stalling in the turning lane. Part two, Cole trusted me not to be a complete idiot with the aforementioned non-stalling free car.

But as I climbed into the silver (what else?) Jeep, I felt a sense of dread and loss. Something was wrong. He was pulling away from me.

At the office, I turned on my computer and waited for Cole to arrive. When he did, I opened my mouth to ask if I could talk to him and he dropped a stack of manila folders on my desk.

"These are for the Drumner/Yeltzen merger. You need to make copies and send them to their respective clients. When you're done with that, go to the cleaner's and get my suit. I've got a meeting tonight."

And that was all that he said before he disappeared into his office.

I let my head drop down to the keyboard. _Utter disaster. _

The computer keyboard let out a beep and I looked up to see a message telling me that no, I could not edit the Bay Mirror's homepage.

The Bay Mirror.

Also known as the home of Phoebe Halliwell.

I clicked on the blinking link inviting me to "Ask Phoebe!" and was greeted by the peaceful countenance of the woman-slash-witch that had become a major subplot in my life. Not knowing what I was doing, I began to type.

_Dear Phoebe,_

_I have a problem. Yeah, I know that's how all your letters start out, but this isn't the run-of-the-mill "My deadbeat sister crashed at my place three months ago and she still hasn't gotten a job and I don't know how to kick her out without my mom getting mad at me" problem. Nor is it "My boyfriend and I have been dating since freshman year of college and he still hasn't proposed." It's something that seems like a typical relationship problem on the outside...but it's not._

_There's this guy. He's tall, dark, and handsome, but he's more than that. He has a soul. It's been beaten, brused, and transmuted a few times, but it's there. And he's shared it with me. And that's where things went wrong. He's recently closed himself off and I don't know how to get in._

_This is a stereotypical case of "It's not me. It's her." You see, this guy has an ex-soulmate. He was, and still very much is, head-over-heels in love with her. She wants nothing to do with him and would like nothing more than to delete him from her family's life. (Although I believe the word she and her sisters would use would be "vanquish.")_

_So what should I do? Should I tell him to get off the fence? Should I back off? Should I move to New York and pretend this whole thing never happened? Or should I do none of the above and look for a magical solution to this mess? _

_Phoebe...if you were in my place...and you almost are...what would you do?_

_Cordially,_

_Secretarial School Dropout_

I looked up from my laptop and rubbed my temples. "This is too weird."

"What?" Piper asked from the far end of the dining room table. "There shall be no more hot fudge sundaes in this house. Ever."

"It was an accident!" shouted Paige from the kitchn.

"This letter." I pointed to the screen.

Piper came over and glanced over my shoulder. "Well, it starts with an introduction. That's kinda different."

"Read more."

"Transmuted?"

"Keep going."

"Vanquish? Magical solution?"

"Exactly," I said. "Am I going off the deep end with a conspiracy theory in thinking that this could maybe be Eddi?"

"Cole's Eddi? The secretary?"

"Yeah." I drummed my fingernails on the table. "I don't know. Maybe I'm making too big of a deal with this."

"Why would Eddi write to you?" asked Paige, coming out of the kitchen and tossing a dishcloth to Piper. "I wouldn't go to my boyfriend's ex-wife for help."

I sighed, hating to have to say what I was about to. "Because she thinks it's my fault that he's not letting her into his life."

"Phoebe," Piper said, "it's not. You gave him every chance in the world and he threw it in your face. That's what she gets for getting involved with Cole."

"Piper?" I turned to my older sister, the voice of reason in the midst of a stormy sea of demon issues. She was usually the levelheaded one in the Cole ordeal--not too quick to judge, but not too quick to want to let him back into our lives.

"You can't turn back time," she said, after scrubbing the table for what seemed like an eternity. "You didn't help his emotions any, but whatever you did is small potatoes compared to what he put us through. He has to learn to work through his issues in his own time."

"So you think I emotionally scarred him?"

"I think you gave him a good taste of being human."

"_You're _worried about emotionally scarring _Cole_?" Paige demanded. "Reality check time. He pretended that everything was fine when he was the Source of All Evil, you had to vanquish him, you lost your baby, he came back from demon hell to try to win you back, and let's not forget how many innocents he killed along the way. He almost killed _you_! Remember the strangling?"

I involuntarily touched my neck. "I guess you're right."

"I'd worry more about protecting Eddi."

"You two are forgetting one little detail," said Piper. "The premonition."

"Those can change," Paige said. "Who knows that it hasn't already?"

"How do I answer this?" I gestured to the screen that seemed to be begging for a response. "I have to say _something_."

"That's why they pay you the big money." Piper beckoned to Paige. "Come on. We've gotta go set up at P3."

_Dear Secretarial School Dropout,_

_It sounds like you've got a lot going on, and a lot of it that you can't control. Let me first say that there's no magical fix for what's going on here. (And even if there were, it'd probably backfire.) _

_You have to give him time. It sounds like he's had a rocky relationship, and you don't get over those easily. Be there for him. Don't push, but don't pretend he doesn't exist. Invite him to a jazz club or an art exhibition--something that has nothing to do with relationships or vanquishing. Build trust on a fundamental level and the rest will follow._

_Trust me. I know._

_--Phoebe_

I put down the Bay Mirror. My ex-wife and secretary were having a gab session about me through the mass media. Wonderful.

"Mr. Turner?" Eddi stuck her head in the door. "Do you need anything else done before I go for lunch?"

"Come in and shut the door."

She did. The expression on her face was one of control, as if she'd either laugh or rage at me if she let herself go for even one second.

"Lay off the 'Mr. Turner' crap," I said. "It's driving me insane."

"The other secretaries are the jealous types."

We looked at each other for a few seconds. She bit her lip, then rolled her eyes.

"Look. We both know that there's something between us that's not gonna go away on it's own," she said. "I like you. You're a dangerous yet enticing man--okay, I sound like I had a dictionary for breakfast."

"You want to know something?" I stood up and went over to her. "I like you too."

"Really?"

"Really."

It was our second question-and-answer with the same word in three days. Eddi brushed her hair back and smiled. "Sometimes I wonder about you."

"What do you wonder about?"

"What do you eat for lunch?"

I laughed for what felt like the first time in a long time. "Let's go find out."

And off we went--unsure demon and forward mortal with demon seductress tendancies. It wasn't a walk down the aisle, but it was just as good--a walk towards food.

_A/N: If you read this after such a long hiatus, I thank you seventy times over. I've missed writing this little...I don't even know what you'd call it. Wishful thinking? There we go._

_Hopefully the next few days will bring an update for In A Most Unusual Way. (Remember that one?) _

_Adios! _


	12. Demons

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Twelve: Demons.**

_415 Magazine _had always been my favorite piece of reading material. I'd hoarded every issue since the early nineties, when Billy Joel and his piano were on the cover. My parents were storing twelve boxes of the glossy oversized periodical in the attic, a fire hazard if I've ever heard of one. The articles about the latest and weirdest bands, the snarkily-written news, the information about new clubs--all of it showed me what my future held in store.

Some of it, though, held the power to make me extremely envious. I remember vividly seeing a beautiful fair-skinned blonde in an electric blue slipdress when I was about fifteen. The caption read "Melanie stuns in new designer Kirsten Abbott's best look for summer." I, the way-too-curvy, way-too-brunette, and way-too-poor-for-designer-clothes Edwina wanted to have what Melanie had. She was stick-thin with normal hair and probably a collection of nine boyfriends that she alternated weekends with. I wanted to stun. I wanted to have gotten the _good _Scandanavian genes that would have made me look like a fair milkmaid instead of a strong Viking.

Needless to say, I never became a skinny blonde. But I grew into my curves and learned to love my unpredictable hair. Until very recently, I was comfortable with myself.

That all changed on Wednesday when I picked up my mail.

"Why Ask Phoebe When You Can See Her?" the headline of _415 _questioned. To its' right, the advice guru herself was seated in a lawn chair, looking confidently at the camera. She was in a peach sundress...and I swear that she had the exact same expression Melanie had debuted nine years ago.

Once I was in my apartment, I flipped to the article and began to read.

_Who's San Francisco's hottest single? Who's the all-knowing relative you can always turn to for advice? Who has the closet all of the Bay Area's women would like to raid? (Hint: she's on our cover.)_

"Sick," I said. "Sick sick sick."

Yet I continued on.

_I joined Phoebe in her family's rose-colored Victorian mansion to visit with her about her life otuside of the office. She's in jeans and a white halter top with purple and blue roses, the epitome of a sexy modern woman._

_"My life has improved so much in the last year," she says. "I can't believe I've gotten to where I am."_

_Ah. The infamous marriage. When I press, she reveals all._

_"I was misled," the brunette admits. "My usband wasn't the man I thought he was. Literally He kept a lot from me, and I realized that we would never work, no matter how much I wanted us to."_

_Our conversation moves to her recent success as an advice columnist. She visibly brightens._

_"This is such a big part of my life. It's actuually theraputic for me...to know I'm helping others. I've gotten thank-you letters from people. I honestly think I have the best job in the world."_

_That night, I meet Phoebe at P3, her older sister Piper's club. Piper is a glowingly pregnant woman with glossy brown hair and a handsome husband named Leo. Phoebe's younger sister Paige, a vibrant and spunky redhead, takes a break from working the bar to cheat with us. They're the classic American family--laughing, lovingly teasing each other, and conversing about all possible topics. I learn that Phoebe's favorite movie is "Kill It Before It Dies" and that she regularly reaches her credit card limit. She's a twenty-first century woman living out her dream. We should all be so lucky."_

I slapped the magazine shut. "_Thank _you. Let's see. Famous and stylish advice columnist with the perfect family versus unknown and slightly boring secretary with the wacky family. Which would you rather have?"

I knew which one Cole, presented with the choice, would pick.

"So I'm being stupid," I said. "He can't have her. She's told him that."

Something that Cole had told _me _nagged at my brain. It was the story of their past. They'd broken up lots of times, only to reconnect later. What if this time was no different? Maybe he was just using me as a time filler.

I stepped out into the hallway. There was no time like the present to ask. If he was getting sick of me asking him the same question...too bad.

"Miss Halliwell?" a voice asked from behind me.

I turned around. "Do I look like the epitome of a sexy modern woman to you? No? I didn't think so."

"Of course you do, Miss Halliwell." The suave-looking man smiled almost indulgently.

Just what I needed. A pushy Fuller Brush salesman. "Look, I'm not in the mood. Go bug the people in 6C. They're always home."

"Do you know Belthazor?"

I answered without thinking about the question. "No."

"I believe you're lying, Miss Halliwell."

"How many times do I have to _tell _you--"

Without warning, the man lunged at me. A twisted silver dagger was grasped in his right hand. "If you see him, give him my regards. Oh. That's right. You won't."

"What?" I tried to pull away form his iron grip, my mind incapable of forming a complete sentence. "Why?"

"The honorable Belthazor killed one of my witches. Now I'm returning the favor by taking his. Add that to the accolades I'll receive for killing a Charmed One and I'll be in better standing than he ever was."

"I," I snapped, "am not a Charmed One. They happen to be famous, in case you're one of the seven people that hasn't noticed."

"You're a bad liar."

"Or a good truth-teller."

"Don't talk," he said soothingly. "Save your strength."

"For what?"

The answer was a searing pain in my right side. It's funny--you expect to get stabbed in a dark alleyway or a badly-lit parking lot, not in the hallway of your outrageously expensive apartment building. No one tells you these things in the lease agreement.

That absent and very pointless thought was the last thing that echoed in my head before the man in front of me disappeared down the stairs. I briefly wondered why he hadn't disappeared into thin air like I was gathering most demons did--

_Demons._

I fumbled for my cell phone and dialed Belthazor's number.

"Hey," he said.

"Cole Turner," I wheezed, "go back to hell."


	13. The Day The Magic Messed Up Transport

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Thirteen: The Day Magic Messed Up Transport**

"Sir--you can't go in there. It's restricted."

"Nurse--I don't care."

The small blonde backed away from me slowly. She looked like she'd just graduated from the community college last month. I bet she never expected athame wounds as emergency room fare. "The woman you brought in is resting comfortably," she said, looking as if she'd gladly change places with her.

"I need to see her."

"She's still under the anesthesia from the surgery. I could page Doctor Franklin, if you'd like."

"I would like." I leaned against the nurse's station desk. "I'll wait here."

The nurse began to mutter into the phone, but I didn't hear her. All I could hear was Eddi's voice, condemning me to where I should be. I heard her sharp intake of breath, the clunk of the phone, the beeping of the amazingly slow journey of the elevator down to her floor, and the panic in the man's vioce who had knelt beside her. He'd asked if I had a phone. I'd picked her up, wincing at the deep wound in her side and told him that I had her.

And then--the frustration when I couldn't fade. It was unexplainable and...at the moment, I didn't care.

The man volunteered his car. I refused. I'd gotten Eddi into this. The athame and lack of attacker proved that.

I'd been at the hospital for I don't know how long. It felt like a week had gone by. My head buzzed as everything went through it. Things had almost gotten better...and now this. But that's how evil works. It snatches what you care about most. It happened with Patty Halliwell, it happened with Prue, and it happened with Phoebe and me. Now it was happening to Eddi.

A tall man with dark hair and square glasses rounded a corner and came over to me. "Mr. Turner? I'm Doctor Franklin. I performed Miss Arbess's surgeries."

"I know," I said. This day had held too many introductions and not enough conclusions.

"In one way, she's very lucky. The knife was plunged so that no vital organs were severely injured. There's damage, of course, but the prognosis is good."

"Can I see her?"

Doctor Franklin nodded. "She's not going to be that entertaining, I must warn you. Chelsea can direct you to her room."

I gave the nurse a triumphant look.

"She's in 628," she said, and added "I was just doing my job" under her breath.

Room 628 was in the middle of the left hallway. Eddi was mumbling softly, a surreal addition to an already bizarre night.

"Hi," I said.

"G'way," she muttered thickly.

"Eddi..."

"When I get my strength...you are gonna be one sorry man...if that's even what you are."

"You've used up your quota of words." I dragged a chair over to the bed and sat down.

"You've used up your quota of time."

"I didn't sent whoever did this to you."

"Cole, go. Just go."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Yes, you are." Eddi's voice cracked.

"No."

"I've been stabbed because of you. The least you can do is let me drown in morphine."

"Because of-"

Eddi's eyes met mine. There was nothing drugged about them. "Leave."

"I'll be back."

The irony of this finally hit me. At our first meeting, I had been the one wanting her to go. She had responded with the same words that I'd uttered. She'd wanted to be a part of my life. And in the end, she got more than she bargained for. This was worse than the attacks on the Halliwells. They knew what they were up against. Eddiw as just an inexperienced mortal with sarcasm as her only weapon. She couldn't compare to a Charmed One against demons.

Of course, I'd never say that to her.

At the moment, I had a demon to find.

_A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers! You mean a lot to me._


	14. Building A Mystery

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Fourteen: Building A Mystery **

My body recovered a lot faster than my spirit did. Dr. Franklin released me the next week into the waiting arms of Nancy Hansen, my college roommate and best friend since we mutually tripped each other in the cafeteria during freshman orientation day.

"You look," she began tentatively on the way back to The Towers, "better and worse."

"That's how I feel," I said.

"I wish you'd tell me how this all happened."

"I can't."

She sighed. "Does it have anything to do with the guy that was hanging around the waiting room?"

A chill ran down my spine. Was I on some sort of demonic hit list or something? "What guy?" I asked.

"Brown curly hair, really tall, resembles a male model," said Nancy.

"Cole," I said. "He's…he's fine."

I couldn't say that Cole was the catalyst to what had happened. Because, truthfully, he wasn't. If I had run, or if I had screamed, or if I had done anything but verbally spar with the owner of the knife, I would have avoided injury. But no. Intelligence flew out the window.

Nancy parked the car. "Eddi, seriously," she said. "This--this Cole didn't have anything to do with what happened to you?"

"No," I replied. "He didn't."

"Because I got serious weird vibes from him," she continued. "How well do you know him?"

"Well enough," I said. "Nance, I know you want to go all _CSI: California _on this, but there's nothing. It was completely random. I bet the guy just robbed an apartment and didn't want me to be a witness."

She paused, then shrugged. "But the guy's okay?"

"Cole is good," I said. "Well, maybe not technically good, but decent enough."

**XXX**

That night, after being oddly captivated by a terrible Lifetime movie, Nancy retreated to the guestroom with a San Francisco phonebook. She'd spent a couple months here dabbling in architectural design before settling on early childhood education (she held the unofficial UCLA record for most major changes for three straight years before some hyperactive girl in the class under us stole it) and had a couple ex-conquests that she hinted at wanting to revisit.

While the nutcase jumped around in her love life, I ventured up to the penthouse to salvage mine. The slightest noise made me jump ten feet and every shadow made me wish I had a vanquishing potion (or at least a knife).

The elevator opened quietly. Before I stepped out, voices drifted from the living room.

"At last," drawled a voice that made me turn to stone, "I come face to face with Belthazor."

"Zorm," said Cole, "you really need to keep up. Belthazor's been vanquished."

"Obviously not all of him, since here you are. You're taking the loss of your witch well. I commend you."

"You're about a year behind. But then again, you never were too bright, so…" Cole trailed off. His arrogant stature was audible.

"Let's cut the small talk," the man said. "You brought me here so you could admit that I've settled our score."

"There was no score to settle."

"You killed one of the witches that I was assigned to in 1962. Ring any bells?"

"I do not believe you're still whining about that."

"Now I've killed one of yours," the man said with--could it be?--glee. Yes, it was glee. "We're equal now."

I stepped out of the elevator and the scene came into view. As it did, a glowing mass of light formed in Cole's hand and he flung it at Zorm. "_Now _we're equal," he corrected after his target had dissolved into ash.

"Thanks for never using one of those on me," I said, trying to quell my shaking hands. Seeing Cole fade, or even being turned into Phoebe Halliwell…that was only slightly strange. But seeing someone go from gloating to gone in less than three seconds was chilling, even if it was someone (something? are demons people or things?) that was begging for it, like this guy had been.

Cole looked up. "When did you get back?"

"Today."

"You should have called me."

"I've got Nancy."

"Who?"

"College friend." I went over to him. "What I said last Wednesday…I didn't mean all of it. This…" I gestured to my side. "…wasn't your fault. Who was I, arguing with a demon?"

"No," said Cole. "It never would have happened if I hadn't gotten mixed up with you. Zorm tracked me and waited to get you alone."

"He obviously didn't track _well_."

"He was always sloppy." Cole shook his head. "Went off half-cocked all the time."

"Well, it looks like he won't be going off at all anymore." I gazed at the dusty remains.

"I would agree with that."

I wrung my hands. A week ago I'd come up to declare myself. Now I was going to. "Look," I began. "I'm not Phoebe and I never will be. I won't be famous or on top of everything or have the city's best clothes. I'm lucky if my shoes match. And my family? We can't even decide on a vacation spot, much less protect San Francisco from evil. I can't be the epitome of a sexy modern woman. If you want me to be, or if that's what you're expecting, forget it. I can't."

Cole gaped at me like I'd rattled off Swedish backwards. _"What?"_

"Are you expecting me to be perfect?" I asked. "That's as condensed as it can get."

"No," he said incredulously. "Where did you get that from?"

"You're used to perfect. I am _not _perfect," I said. "I am the antithesis of perfect."

"Phoebe wasn't perfect."

"Tell that to the Bay Area."

"Okay," said Cole. "So you don't have the city at your feet. I don't _care_. Phoebe went through hell with me and now she's being rewarded."

I considered that. Finding out that your husband was possessed during your entire marriage was definitely grounds for a reward. As was losing the love of your life and a child in less than a month.

"So what do I get for my battle scar?" I asked. "I don't want the city."

"I think L.A.'s up for grabs."

I smiled for the first time in what seemed like twenty years. "I'm not a huge Hollywood fan."

"How about Salt Lake?"

"I'm not Mormon."

"You're a tough one. Seattle?"

"Now you're getting warmer." I shook my head. "I don't want a city," I decided. "All I need is one person in _this _city."

"Eddi," said Cole. He paused, as if debating between two very different statements. "This can't happen. You'll be in so much danger if you're with me. Zorm would be just the beginning of your injuries. I can't do that to you."

I looked at him and for the first time, I saw that he did care for me--not like Phoebe Halliwell, superwitch, but something equally as strong. He cared for me enough to let me go.

Without saying anything, I walked back to the elevator. Cole walked away before the doors closed. "Piano Man" played through the speakers and I remembered how I'd bought the sheet music at Engle Music junior year in high school with the intention to play and sing it for graduation. By December the next year, I knew that it would never happen. It was way too complex and intricate and advanced for me. I let it go peacefully.

The same thing should have happened with Cole. He was the personification of my struggles with the song. No matter how hard I worked, he had too much for me to master.

Nobody ever said I was good at admitting defeat, though.

I hit the "door open" button. "Cole. Get out here," I called.

There was no response. I went into his empty bedroom and sat cross-legged on the bed. "I'm not leaving."

Silence was the answer.

"Do you hear me? Whether you like it or not, you've got me. I'm not giving up on us, Cole."

Something struck me. This was the sequel to Cole and Phoebe's relationship. I'd gone from Phoebe last week in the hospital to Cole by hanging on. The things I'd said sounded eerily familiar, as if I'd heard them vaguely before in the past.

Cole's frame blocked the muted light from the doorway. "You don't know what you'd be getting into."

"Don't worry about me," I said. "I'm alive. I survived what I hope will be the first of many threats from demons."

"You _want _demons in your life?" Cole bent over so he was at eye level with me. "Did Doctor Franklin happen to take a CAT scan? Because if he didn't, I think he should."

"If I'm dealing with demons," I went on, "that means I'm with you. I'd gladly deal with a few knife wielders in exchange for your company while I recover."

"What made you change your mind?" he asked.

"Life is too short to let things like demons interfere with what you want."

"Eddi," said Cole, "_I'm _a demon."

"You're different."

"Am I?" He stood up to his full height. "I'd disagree."

"Don't say that. You know that you're not like the other--"

Cole grabbed my arm and pulled me off the bed. "A week ago you told me to leave you alone. Now I'm telling you. Go."

"This is just some form of reverse psychology. You're pissed off at me for telling you to leave me alone and you're trying to get back at me."

But as I said it, I wasn't exactly sure. The look in Cole's eyes was one of anger. Of…evil?

He dragged me out of the bedroom. "Get out of here."

"What's wrong with you?" I shouted.

In response, he waved his hand at me. I felt a shudder of fear 'til I realized that physically, I was fine. He'd sent me back to my bed.

"They say women are moody," I said, shakily sitting down.

It was only a phase. It had to be.

Unless I'd somehow turned him back to his past by blaming him for my injuries. If you can't beat 'em…join 'em?

I couldn't think about this. I slipped my CD player's headphones over my ears and flipped through my CD wallet for something to drown out the possibilities. Something with words to analyze and think about instead of coming up with my own.

I slipped in Sarah MacLauchlan's "Mirrorball" tour disc. As the opening notes flowed into my ears, I closed my eyes. _Stay perfectly still_, I instructed myself, _and you won't break. Stay still and you won't think about him. _

_You're so beautiful, with an edge and a charm._

_But so careful when I'm in your arms._

"Building a mystery." I let out a breath. "Pretty much."

_A/N: Hello, faithful readers! Was it way back in June when I updated last? Oy. Time flies. But never fear, my friends. I at the moment have my hand on the notebook containing this entire fic._

_Since the first time I heard it, "Building A Mystery" screamed "Cole." If you've never heard it before, YouTube or iTunes (or whatever) it. One bad word somewhere around the late two-minute mark (2:43? Don't ask me how I know that) and then you can feel free to listen freely. _

_Thanks for reading! _


	15. Lucky Chance

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Fifteen: Lucky Chance**

A single woman househunting in the city has the ability to raise eyebrows. Especially when that woman is looking at outrageously expensive mansions with a Mia Farrow lookalike.

"What else do you have?" Nancy asked Ferdinand, my recently signed real estate agent.

"There's one more house," he said. It's large. Three and a half baths."

"Does that mean one bathroom, a butcher's shower in the basement, and a rusty sprinkler?" I muttered to Nancy.

"Probably," she muttered back.

"It's a wonderful old Victorian. 1331 Prescott Street," Ferdinand continued, maneuvering his sleek black Mercedes around a corner. "And the price is reasonable. Not cheap by any means, but not as much as some of the others."

"Great." I slumped back. "This is gonna drain me, Nance. Hello, bankruptcy."

"You need a change," she said. "It wouldn't be healthy to stay in the same place that you were attacked in. Even _I_ know that."

To be honest, I didn't know why I felt so compelled to run halfway across the city. I knew I had to leave The Towers and Cole. It was the only way to keep myself sane. That was the only thing that was perfectly clear. My personal days at the office were being eaten through and I dreaded my return. Maybe I wouldn't.

"Hopefully this is a decent one," Nancy said to me. "21 North Scotts was miniscule and Baxter was an asbestos condemnation waiting to happen and 82nd Smith was a death trap. Honestly, you don't get much for your price range."

"My price range is an apartment," I sighed.

"So then why are you looking at _houses_?"

"Because…I don't know," I answered truthfully. "So I can become Miss Havisham?"

Ferdinand lurched the car to a stop. "There's a view of the Golden Gate. It needs a bit of paint--"

("The house or the Golden Gate?" Nancy asked.)

"--but the tremendous woodwork inside more than makes up for that."

We got out an I examined the mansion. "It doesn't look like 1331 Prescott Street. It looks like 1313 Mockingbird Lane."

"It must have been abandoned for years," Nancy commented. "It's spooky."

"Well, the appearance is enough to scare away Charles Manson, that's for sure."

The inside was a different story. The walls were gray-blue and the floors were a dark brown wood. It kind of reminded me of the inside of the Titanic…a huge staircase, a chandelier, and puddles of water on the floor from where the roof leaked, which would have been a petty problem for the tragic ship but a major annoyance for me.

"Like I said, it needs some work. Roof repairs, painting, new wallpaper in a few upstairs bedrooms, but the utter murderousness of the house itself makes up for the minor problems." Ferdinand smiled winningly. "Feel free to look around."

I followed Nancy upstairs. "Hey, it's even got a Titanic clock. And two hallways. What, did Thomas Andrews design this place?" I asked absently.

"Not a good omen," said Nancy.

My cell phone burst into an electronic Mozart symphony. I pulled it out of my purse without checking the Caller ID. "Hello?"

"Where the hell are you?"

My blood went to ice.

I seriously considered hanging up.

"I'm leaving you alone," I said after I caught my breath.

"Eddi?" Nancy touched my shoulder.

I waved her away. "Go check the other hallway," I said. "Look at the peeling wallpaper."

"What are you doing?" the voice demanded.

I ducked into the closest bedroom. "Cole, why did you call me?"

"I haven't seen you since Thursday night," he said. "I was worried."

"I'm fine."

"I need to talk to you."

"No."

"Listen. What I said--"

"I know what you said," I spat in a voice that surprised me. "It's played in my head for the past week. And I get it. You care about me but you don't want me. You didn't have to play the demonic card."

"That's what we need to talk about."

"Sorry, but I'm busy."

"You have to come back to the office soon," Cole pointed out. "Your personal days are dwindling and your sick days are long gone."

"So I quit," I told him. "Everyone will be distraught."

He sighed. "You never told me where you were."

"Prescott Street" was the last thing I said before I clicked my phone shut angrily and went to find Nancy.

**XXX**

"Charmed Ones my ass. We couldn't even save _one _leprechaun, let alone all of them," Paige griped as we stomped into the attic.

"It wasn't for lack of trying, Paige." I opened the Book of Shadows in search of an answer.

"Yeah, well, still," she said frustratedly. "Saleel is a low-level demon. You know, we had luck on our side, we had magic, we should have been able too--_"_

Her rant was cut off when her foot hooked in the rug. She tripped with a screech.

"Ouch."

"You all right?" Leo asked.

"You okay?" This day was getting worse.

"No, I am not all right." Paige pushed her hair back. "I was supposed to help Seamus. Instead I got him killed."

"Paige, we were struck by lightening. We coulda never seen that coming," I insisted.

She struggled to her feet, still holding Seamus' stick. "How'm I supposed to help them when even Mother Nature is against us?"

She had a point.

"Okay, well, I can't get there right now so you're gonna have to handle it yourself. Call an electrician." Piper came into the attic on the phone as Paige sank down and I paged through the Book. She hung up, her exasperation floating through the air. "There's a power failure at the club. We're shut down for the night. Do you have any idea how much money we're about to lose?" she asked Leo disgustedly.

There was a snap. All the lights exploded and sizzled.

I shrieked. "What the hell is happening?"

"Seems like a bad luck streak and it's picking up steam," said Paige.

"Well, it can't get much worse than being struck by lightening," Leo the ever-optimistic pointed out.

"Oh no?" I joined Paige on the couch. "How about being hit by a meteor?"

"Take Wyatt outta here." Piper handed her son to Leo. "You were the only one who wasn't cursed with the bad luck. He's safe with you."

"I'll right," he agreed, "I'll take him to Uncle Elders. He'll be safe there."

"Didn't they ask you not to do that?" I asked.

"Yeah, but…" Leo trailed off and shrugged. "Screw 'em."

It was at the moment he orbed out when Cole galloped in.

"Eddi," he panted. "Where is she?"

"Hold it," said Piper. "What're you doing here?"

"Bad luck," Paige sang under her breath.

"I just got off the phone with her," said Cole. "She said she was on Prescott Street."

"Cole, more people than us live on Prescott Street," I said, annoyance creeping in. "What makes you think she'd be here?"

"We…we had this thing that was brought on by an even bigger thing…Phoebe…"

I sighed. Figures that he would pick _now _to have a fight with his girlfriend. "You know what, you're just gonna have to work it out on your own. That's what normal people do."

"You haven't seen her?"

"Why would she have come here in the first place?" Piper asked. "We've maybe talked to her twice."

"it wouldn't have been a social call," said Cole.

"Wait." Paige snickered. "Does she want to _vanquish _you?"

"Paige," said Piper. "It's not funny."

"Do you curse everyone you touch?" Paige demanded.

Cole looked in my direction, as if he wanted me to support him. I went over to the window and leaned my forehead against it, wishing that today would just get over with.

"Be careful," Piper warned me. "Cole, Eddi isn't here, nor has she ever been, so shoo."

I squinted out the window. A blonde woman in a trenchcoat and a man in a dark suit were standing next to a black Mercedes. A familiar-looking mass of brown curls and red coat sprinted towards them.

"Your girlfriend," I said to Cole, "is out there."

Without a word, he disappeared Cole disappeared.

"Do you think the third time would be the charm in vanquishing him?" Paige asked no one in particular.

"Forget about him," said Piper. "We have bigger snakes to fry."

**XXX**

Nancy studied me for a moment. "What do you think?"

"Why is there so much furniture?" I asked. "It's like the last family just left one night."

"I believe they did. Nothing to do with the house, though," Ferdinand amended quickly.

"Eddi."

I didn't want to turn around. I really didn't. But my legs did, and I came face-to-face with Cole.

"All right, you stalker," Nancy said, "get out of here."

"I'm not a stalker," said Cole.

"I took self defense in L.A.," Nancy whispered in my ear. "Want me to take him out?"

I shook my head. Cole was my issue. "You and Ferdinand can go."

"I'm not leaving you with him."

"I'll be okay."

Nancy moved me aside and gave Cole her sternest schoolteacher face. "If she's not home in an hour, I'm calling the cops."

"Fine," Cole said.

I waited until Nancy and Ferdinand had sped away before I asked the inevitable question.

"What is your problem?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Cole looked around. "But not here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay. You want it all out now?"

"Cole, I've been waiting for it to be all out since you supernaturally tossed me down to my apartment. No. Since _before_." I examined his handsome face. "You keep pulling this hot and cold thing with me. I'm sick of not knowing if I'm your girlfriend or your geisha or if I'm just making this entire thing up and I'm interfering in your life by having this illusion of importance!"

"Is that what you think?" Cole took my face in his hands.

"You've never told me differently.

"Look," said Cole, "you don't know how hard it is for me to plunge into a relationship again. I mean, I barged into Halliwell Manor to try to stop you from vanquishing me."

"You told me that you were a typical demon and now you're worried about me thinking you're evil and wanting to vanquish you? How many personalities do you _have_?" I pulled away from him. "Let me ask all of them something."

Cole nodded. "Shoot."

My original questions from the Wednesday that seemed so long ago floated to my lips. _Do you love Phoebe? What if she'd want you back? Would you go? Am I really someone that you enjoy or am I just a pathetic girl that you're rebounding with_? They spun in my brain and when I formed a complete sentence, it was:

"Do you love me?"

"Yes!" he shouted.

From the look on his face, his answer was as unplanned as my question. We looked at each other in silence for what seemed like forever.

And then Cole kissed me. It wasn't like it had been in the past--seductive, gentle, tinted with my doubts about Phoebe. This was fierce and passionate. Nothing echoed in my head except a few thumps from the house next door.

But I didn't care what sort of strange things were going on in the pink Victorian. All I cared about was the strange twist today was taking.

"Come on," Cole murmured. "Let's go."

This was against every rule in the book. Classes in Mortal 101 would tell you that going home with a demon is the stupidest thing you can do. Classes in Relationship 101 (which meet directly across the hall) say to be wary of going home with a man who, up until ten minutes ago, you were obsessing over yet avoiding.

So with those facts in mind, I let Cole fade me to the penthouse. I was never any good at paying attention during lectures.

_A/N: The middle of this chapter is taken from the episode "Lucky Charmed," which I cannot take credit for. _

_You know, who really came up with the disclaimer thing? If I owned the show, season five would have taken a much different spin._

_Anyway…_

_The house that Eddi was looking at is the unpainted one to the left of the Halliwell's home. Just as a tiny hint of what's to come, it will play a large part in her and Cole's future. There's a little taste for you. Now go forth and be creative!_


	16. Prelude to a Vacation

**More Than She Bargained For  
****Chapter Sixteen: Prelude to a Vacation**

In the silence of the penthouse's bedroom, there was an irritated beep from my only connection to the outside world.

__

You have 5 new voicemails.

I moaned as I raised my cell phone to my ear. "Why does this place make me forget about people?"

Cole laughed, a beautiful sound that nearly made me drop the phone, which was playing a barrage of messages from the same person.

"It's Nancy and you passed the one hour mark ten minutes ago. Call me so I know you're not dead."

"Nancy again. Call if you're alive."

"Eddi, I'm actually worried now. You're forty-five minutes past an hour."

"Edwina Ingrid Arbess, you'd better have an explanation for where you are if I ever see you again. I'm worried and hungry. Call if you're somewhere. Did I say I was worried?"

"All right, this is the last time I'm calling you before I go out and look for you myself. If that guy you're with is the kind of person that I think he is…never mind. Eddi--_call_."

"You're not that late," Cole said. "Two hours, tops."

"That's enough for Nancy." I dialed her number and she answered within half a ring.

"Please let this be you and not some random guy who found your phone on the side of the road from where you lost it in the struggle and pressed 'redial' to see who you last called," she gasped.

"Relax," I said. "It's me."

"Thank goodness. Now you can tell me where the Hades you are so I can drag you home to make some dinner."

"Order pizza," I suggested. "I don't think I'm coming home."

"He's holding you hostage, isn't he? He's holding you hostage and telling you what to say?"

"Let me ask. Cole," I said over my shoulder, "are you holding me hostage and telling me what to say?"

He sat up and nibbled said shoulder. "You wouldn't obey, so why waste my breath?"

"You hear that?" I asked Nancy.

"Are you--did you--" Nancy sputtered. "Tell me where you are."

I rolled my eyes. "None of your business, nosy one."

"I'll assume the worst."

"If you must know," I sighed, "I'm at Cole's."

"And where exactly is Cole's?"

"Not far from where you are."

"Wanna share what you're doing?"

"At the moment, nothing."

"Whatever. Be secretive," my keeper said. "But you're buying me lunch tomorrow."

I hung up and lobbed the phone across the bedroom. It hit the floor with a clatter. "I was aiming for my coat," I said with a wince.

Cole ran his hand through my hair. "This is natural?"

"A woman never tells." I gave him a haughty look that lasted for a grand total of four seconds before I broke my air of sophistication with a snort. "Do you honestly think I'd willingly do this to my hair? It's all Rydquist genetics."

"Your mother did this to you?"

"My mother, my aunt Gunda, and my grandmother Valma," I listed.

"Nice names."

"I'm insanely Scandinavian."

"Where'd your name come from?"

"My best guess is an old episode of _MASH_. I know that Viv came from Vivian Leigh. We both got lucky in the names department, all things considered." I ruffled Cole's hair. "Tell me about your name. Any witty demon ever call you Char?"

"I was named for my father. Not as interesting a story as yours."

"Yeah, well, at least yours is normal."

"Makes up for everything else." Cole lay back down. "I never asked what you were doing on Prescott Street."

"Contemplating spending lots and lots of money on an overpriced elderly mansion."

"You want to buy that monstrosity with no paint?"

" 'Want' isn't the word."

"You'll need money to fix that thing up. Have you changed your mind about quitting?"

I settled myself onto a pile of pillows. "I've been gone for forever. I'm gonna be so behind."

"Nah. Dandelion picked up most of your extra. Andrea wasn't very happy that you were gone, but she got over it."

"Good to know."

Cole rolled himself over onto his side so he faced me. "You're gonna rattle around in that old place."

"There's furniture."

"And probably half a dozen bedrooms," he added.

"And three and a half baths."

"Just what one person needs."

I shrugged. "Maybe I'll take in roommates."

"Any possibilities?"

"None yet."

As we settled into a contented stupor, I mentally corrected my last statement. There was maybe _one _possibility.

**XXX**

I woke up the next morning to rain tapping on the roof. Actually, more like banging. It was like being stuck inside a fishtank with small children beating on the glass.

I clapped my hands over my ears. My apartment was only on the sixth floor. Why did it sound like there was only a roof separating me from the sky?

_Well maybe, _something in my brain said,_ because you're not in your apartment._

_I_ opened my eyes and sat up quickly. Big bed, big closet, space to move--definitely not my apartment.

"Good morning." To the right of me, Cole sat up and pressed his lips to mine. "Do you know that you snore?"

"Did you read the one-night stand handbook?" I asked, a little unsure and a lot flattered.

"I just woke up," he said with an visible attempt at nonchalance.

"Liar." I smacked his forehead gently. "Is it always this loud up here when it rains?"

"I've never noticed it before."

A thought struck me. "What day is it today? Screw the day, what time is it? You're gonna be late, I'm gonna be late, and we're gonna be the new torrid gossip," I said, panic building inside of me. Getting fired for having an affair with your superior wasn't something I would want to put on my résumé.

"It's Saturday," said Cole.

"Good." I shuddered. "Imagine if Andrea got ahold of us. We'd have to wear scarlet 'R's for 'Rulebreakers.' 'N' for 'Naughty.'"

Cole rolled his eyes. "She's been having a thing with Mr. Grillis for years."

"_Really?_" I crowed. "You never have to buy me a birthday present. Ever. That was it."

Cole laughed. "Well, then just consider this a loan, then." He handed me a white box that was unmistakably from a store that probably hadn't made an appearance in my closet. "You're forbidden from going to your apartment today."

"Oh? And when did you have time to go to the store?"

"I have my secrets."

"Yes, you do." I opened the box and was greeted with a white silk blouse. "Are you kidding me? Cole, I spill things."

He waved his hand at it and it became black. "Better?"

"Fabulous." I touched something rough and took out a pair of jeans that looked like they'd popped out of a Vigoss ad. "You know something? I think you're trying to bribe me with clothes."

"Whatever works." He smacked my rear end. "Get up. Busy day ahead of us."

"I thought it was Saturday," I said. "I thought we were going to laze around here and eat Chinese."

"We're not." Cole stood up and extended his hand to me. "We're having a normal couple day."

"And what are we going to be doing on this normal couple day?" I asked as I took his hand, my heart jumping. Most of my old boyfriends usually rolled out of bed with a mumbled question as to my coffee-making skills. This simple gesture smacked me on the head with a subdued romance.

"I have no idea," he said somewhat sheepishly. "I've never been in a normal couple. There have been demons, a couple vampires, a few feminists that weren't good or bad, and a witch, but never a mortal."

"Do you think I have?" I laughed. "One of my boyfriends and I spent free time with one of us writing sentences with a grammatical error and the other one trying to find it. If you stumped the other, you got a point. The first one to ten points had to buy the other a book." I shrugged, amused at Cole's befuddled expression. "We were journalism majors."

"So both of us are clueless?" he questioned.

"'Normal' is a relative term," I said. "But I think the ground rules would be no powers, no powers, and did I mention no powers?"

"I think I heard that part."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Mind if I take a shower before we begin our day of normalcy?"

"Go ahead. I'll look through the paper for something typical."

"See you soon." I tipsily began to make my way out of the bedroom.

"Wait," Cole said, tapping my shoulder. "You've got something on your lips."

I pressed them together. "What?"

"Mine."

This was not real. This couldn't be real.

It _felt_ real.

"You get me for the entire day," I said, turning my head. "But we will be much happier when my hair doesn't look like a family of eagles lives in it."

Cole looked at my head for a moment. "Agreed."

"Goodbye." I smacked him again and headed to the bathroom.

I shuddered to think the price of the penthouse. Mine was priced high enough, and it wasn't half as nice as Cole's. The shower was big enough for three people (not a visual I wanted to dwell on) and the acoustics were much better than my apartment's bathroom.

But alas, the sound carried.

" 'I lost my heart to a starship trooper'?" Cole asked when I re-entered the bedroom. "Interesting line."

I winced. "You heard?"

He nodded, a smug smile on his face. "Let's see. You sang that, and then you did a little of 'Ring of Fire' and you ended with something that was very nineties pop."

" 'This Is It,' " I said sheepishly. "I used to love the video for that. I wanted to be Danni Minogue until she got divorced from that Australian guy." I looked at him for a moment. "You don't have a lime green shirt with pink flowers on it by any chance, do you?"

"Not really my colors," said Cole.

"I have no clue what we're doing today, by the way." I picked a flick of lint off of his dark blue sweater. "Do you have any thoughts?"

"Having a normal couple day would be easier to do where we were sure we wouldn't run into anyone we know," he answered. "So pick a city."

"Any city?" I asked.

He nodded. "We'll fade there and that'll be the end of power usage for the day."

I pondered various attractive destinations. I'd done L.A., toured Seattle, and never had the inkling to visit the wild west with my…Cole (there was no word for his relation to me). "Let's go to a totally different coast," I said. "How's New York City sound?"

"Perfect. Anything on Broadway that you're dying to see?"

I looked at him for a moment.. "You aren't real," I said finally. "None of the previous guys I've been involved with did musical theatre. They did sports, they did the cheerleaders of said sports, and they occasionally did hot dog eating competitions."

"Well, I'm about one hundred years older than most of your previous suitors. I've got a leg up in the maturity department."

And as if to prove it, my very mature Cole grabbed the damp towel from where it was wrapped around my head and snapped me with it.

_A/N: Fluff: completed._

_Please form an orderly line and move on to chapter seventeen._


	17. On Broadway and In Chinatown

**More Than She Bargained For  
Chapter Seventeen: On Broadway and In Chinatown**

"Wow." I clutched Cole's lapels and pulled myself closer to him. "How long does it take to get used to demonic transport?"

He chuckled. "Just breathe." A pause. "Actually, don't."

"Wha--"

"Hold your breath," Cole instructed as he pulled me onto a populated street in the heart of NYC. "That's better."

I glanced over my shoulder at the alley we'd faded into seconds before and grimaced. It looked like the Mongolian restaurant we were standing in front of was using it as both their restroom and dumpster. "Lovely."

"I aimed for someplace no one would see us arrive and that's what we got." Cole shrugged. "Could've done worse."

"Could've landed in the bathroom of a bookstore too," I pointed out as I pulled Fodor's New York City Guidebook out of my ice blue purse, the only item of my wardrobe that wasn't of designer quality. "Let's see. Where's _Rent _playing at again?"

"I don't believe you're dragging me to that."

I rolled my eyes. "Who asked if there was anything I was dying to see?"

"I thought you'd say something like _Chicago _or _Les Miserables_," said Cole. "Even _CATS_."

"_CATS _closed two years ago." I flipped through the book. "What's wrong with _Rent_?"

"Starving bohemians aren't really my cup of tea."

"We could go to something else," I suggested. "_Mamma Mia! _is at the Winter Garden…_The Producers _is at the St. James…I honestly do not believe we are debating which Broadway show to go to when yesterday at this time I was avoiding you like the plague."

"Why was that?" Cole asked, taking the book from me.

"Because I was under the impression that you considered me an inconvenience in your life," I said truthfully, which was a lousy idea in hindsight. If we got into another fight and he stormed away, I would be three thousand miles away from home with no ride back. "I mean, you sent me back to my apartment after telling me that you were evil. What was I supposed to do, trot into work the next day like nothing had happened?"

"I've been mentally kicking myself for that ever since I did it. It's just…" Cole sighed. "Eddi, I'm used to falling back into evil. It seemed like the natural excuse to keep you from being hurt. Any normal woman would have left and never looked back."

"Any normal woman would have never gotten involved with a demon in the first place," I pointed out.

"But you're not normal."

"Right." I took the book back. "We could always go with something classic like _The Phantom of the Opera_." I scanned the Theatre section, waiting for something to pop out at me. My high school had done _Little Shop of Horrors _and I'd killed myself for the part of Audrey. I sang "Suddenly Seymour" for two weeks straight until Viv threw a massive tantrum and Mom forbade me from singing a note within fifty feet of the house. (P.S. Angela Faulkton was cast as Audrey and I ended up being Customer Number Two. If Angie hadn't been my best friend, I would have throttled her.) So that would be out strictly on a bad memory basis. _Wicked _was too witchy, even though I was dying to hear Idina Menzel hit the ending notes of "Defying Gravity."

"I love you."

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked over at Cole. "What?" I asked.

"I know I told you when we were in front of the house," he answered, "but I wanted to say it when we weren't in the midst of an argument."

Suddenly the choice of musical didn't seem so important.

"And I love you," I said, feeling a surge of warmth go through me. My heart gave a judder as he smiled. Here this man was, cracked and wounded, and he was opening his heart to someone who could easily stomp on it with the Prada boot he gave her.

Cole swept me into his arms and kissed me gently. I wrapped my arm around his neck and whispered, "You pick what we go to."

The corners of Cole's eyes crinkled with laughter. "How about _Little Shop of Horrors_?"

"Okay," I agreed.

Hey. Love is about making sacrifices.

**XXX**

Sometime after _Little Shop _(Seymour was fabulous, Audrey was a little lacking, but the plant kept everyone in stitches), while we made our way around Chinatown, my phone rang. The Caller ID proclaimed the worries of Nancy.

I flipped it open and answered with a sigh. "I'm not dead."

"I didn't think you were," she said unconvincingly. "I just wanted to see what you were up to."

"Not much," I lied. "We went to a musical and now we're just walking around the city."

"How'd you get tickets to a Saturday matinee? I tried to get one for _Evita _and they were totally gone."

"Scalpers," I said. (Total truth there. Apparently Cole's powers didn't include free orchestra seats.)

"Are you planning on coming home anytime soon?" asked Nancy. "I leave in two days, you know."

"Go out and see San Francisco," I urged. "They're offering tours of Alcatraz."

"You're the history person, not me."

"Find an art show." I linked my arm through Cole's. "Or a concert. Or go to a club."

"Alone? I'll get mugged."

I snorted. "This isn't L.A., Nance."

"Fine," she said. "I'll go out and find a cute guy, but I'm not gonna enjoy it."

"'Atta girl," I said with a grin. "Talk to you later."

Cole watched me as I snapped my phone shut. "How did you get mixed up with her?" she asked.

"Ask UCLA," I said. "Anyway. Where do you want to eat for lunch?"

He looked around. "How do you feel about Chinese?"

I was about to retort when a scream echoed across the bustling street. Cole grabbed my arm and pulled me into another alleyway, his body tense. "If I tell you to run, do it," he growled. "Don't worry about anyone else."

A rice paper screen ripped and a woman flew through the air. People scattered in every direction, leaving the street bare in milliseconds. _Way to help your fellow man_, I thought, but kept it to myself. This was no time to go all humanitarian. (Those who cower behind demons shouldn't throw stones.)

The woman stood up. She didn't look like the Chinatown type--dark blonde, faded jeans, and a sweatshirt from the University of Nebraska. Even from twenty feet away, I could see her delicate hands shaking.

"Over here!" I hissed, poking my head out and beckoning to her.

She looked at me dazedly.

I waved my hand. "Get over here! We're the good guys!"

"Good guys usually don't say things like that," muttered Cole.

My invitation had been accepted, though. She scurried over like a frightened rabbit, stumbling over the uneven sidewalk. "I was just in there," she gasped, "minding my own business when this man appeared out of nowhere and…I must've hit my head."

"What did he do?" asked Cole.

"He…" The woman shook her head. "He threw fire. Crazy, right? And then he flung his hand at me and…" She took a shaky breath. "I don't know how he did it, but he made me crash through that screen."

Cole and I exchanged glances, an unspoken thought running through both of our minds. What can make a surprise entrance wherever it likes, create fire at will, and move objects without lifting a finger?

"Demon," Cole told me. He kissed my cheek and started for the building. "I'll be back."

"Be careful," I called uncertainly. When I caught the woman looking at me in disbelief, I shrugged. "It's no big deal. He's invincible."

"You don't think I'm insane?" the woman asked. "_I _think I'm insane and I saw it happen!"

"I've gotten to the point where I think nothing is insane anymore." I extended my hand. "I'm Eddi."

"Anna Carmichael," she replied, looking at me tentatively. "Who's he?"

I looked at Cole's retreating figure. "Him? Oh, he's…well, I think he's my boyfriend but we haven't really established anything. Let's just say that he's Cole and leave it at that."

"Oh." Anna nodded. "What's he going to do with the man?"

"Create a bonfire, most likely."

"_What_?"

"This might take him awhile, so I'll fill you in." I leaned against the wall, trying to figure out the best way to explain the magical world. "Do you believe in the supernatural? Witches, demons, that sort of thing?"

"Well…" Anna trailed off. "I'm not sure."

"That's what Cole is," I said. "A demon. He's a good demon, but he's still got demonic genes and powers. And the guy that crashed in there is probably a demon too." I paused. "Or a warlock. I'm not too sure on the differences between the two yet."

Anna ran her hand through her hair. "You can't expect me to believe that, can you? I mean…"

"What?" I asked. "Offer me one explanation for what happened in there."

"This is New York!" she exclaimed. "Weird stuff happens here all the time."

"Not this weird."

"Are you from here?"

"I'm from California, which is weird enough," I answered. "What about you? Where do you roost?"

"My family lives in a little town called Waco but I go to school in Lincoln." She gestured to her shirt. "I'm here with our marching band, actually." A look of terror crossed her face. "Oh my gosh, where's Dominic?"

"Who?"

"He's my boyfriend. I told him that I'd meet him at Andre's Coffee Shop in ten minutes and that was seventeen minutes ago."

"I'm sure he'll understand. Don't buses always run behind schedule?"

Before she could answer, Cole trotted back over. "All taken care of," he said with a little too much cheer. "Low-level, not too much to worry about. Ever since I died, the Underworld's organization has gone to hell." He smirked. "Literally."

"You two were in on this," said Anna, backing away slowly. "You're with that guy and you're setting me up. I don't know how you did it, but you did it. Where's Ashton?"

"How much did you tell her?" Cole asked me.

"Enough," I replied. "And she's a little skeptical, so you probably should show her what you do."

"Eddi, my powers are not for show-and-tell."

"Powers?" Anna repeated. "How far are you guys gonna go?"

Cole rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said to me. He sighed, closed his eyes with exaggerated effort, and disappeared. Two seconds later he appeared behind Anna.

"What the--" She turned around and shrieked. "How did you do that?"

"Guess," I said dryly.

"And that's all she needs to know," said Cole. He shook his head. "If there were any Halliwells within a fifty-mile radius, they'd have my head."

"Can I go now?" asked Anna. "I really have to find Dominic before he freaks out."

"Go ahead," I said.

"But all of this" (Cole gestured to himself, me, and the building) "is never to leave this alley. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "I do."

"Because no one will believe you." He crossed his arms. "At least thirty people saw you hit the pavement and no one saw us."

"She gets it," I said. "Tell your boyfriend that you're lucky to have escaped spending eternity as dust."

"Okay." Anna nodded, as if committing our words to memory. "I won't say a word. I promise."

And she took off down the street, which was beginning to fill again.

"That was an interesting sidebar to the day," I said.

"Eddi," Cole began, "you can't go around telling everyone about me. The Halliwell sisters got publicized once and that's what led to Prue's death. Magic isn't something the entire world needs to know about."

"Then why'd you show her your power?"

"So if she was a demon, she'd know that I wasn't Belthazor," he said.

"How does one little fade convey _that_?"

"Because Belthazor didn't fade. He shimmered. If the woman would have been sent with the other demon to spy on me, she would know that she got the wrong guy. Most minions aren't smart enough to look beyond basic powers."

Not all of my wonder was mock this time. "Do you think of _everything_?"

"I've learned that you can never be too careful." He crossed his arms. "Now. What should we eat?"

"Something Italian."

**XXX**

It was strange, I reflected that night. I was back in the penthouse's living room like nothing had happened. As if the most eventful thing I'd done on for the entire day was paint my nails.

The attack today made me wonder…were demons more prevalent in my world than anyone would think? Were a vast majority of unsolved murders related to the supernatural, rather than the weird mental workings of an intelligent serial killer?

"Cole Turner," I said aloud, "your world is screwy."

My phone rang for the third time in twenty-four hours, and I abandoned thoughts of evil to deal with my best friend (who had a good chance of turning evil if I didn't give her an explanation of why I hadn't come home).

__

A/N: Whew! Eleven pages. The whole "trip to New York" plot wasn't in any of the previous versions (a.k.a. two), but I felt like Eddi and Cole needed to get out of California (and away from the Halliwells thereof).

Oh! And you get bonus points if you caught the Danii Minogue/Julian McMahon reference…

_One more thing before I post this--I am a total Broadway freak, which accounts for the plethora of musicals that abounded in this chapter and also the newest chapter of In A Most Unusual Way. I honestly didn't mean to have them both come out at the same time! Consider it your week of theatre._

_**XXX**_

_An author's note after this chapter was posted, because the author has a brain the size of a squirrel:_

_Anyone ever heard the song "Angels" by Within Temptation (amazing song, creepy video)? It is so Cole/Phoebe...Phoebe's point of view on "evil" Cole, I should say. I wish I could make videos (as opposed to nifty slide show things), because that would be so so so so so **so **perfect for his time when he was the Source._

_But it's depressing if you put it in a Cole/Phoebe way, so go look up something happy afterwards. _

_Speaking of happy...I believe I'll watch "The Producers" tonight. (Oh look. More Broadway!)_


	18. A Blast From The Future

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Eighteen: A Blast From The Future**

"Are you sure you'll be okay here?" Nancy questioned for about the seventieth time in four hours. "Because I can stay. Jayna said that she could take my class for longer than she originally could, so--"

"You've been here for almost three weeks," I said. "I've been healed."

"I'm still worried about you." She set her coffee mug on my apartment's Salvation Army brand end table. "And you _know _why."

"Cole?" I questioned.

"Yeah."

"I told you, he's nothing to worry about."

"As your absence the past three nights show," Nancy said with a slight smirk.

I felt a pang of guilt. I'd abandoned my best friend for my…whatever he was. "Something came up. We had stuff to talk about."

"Ten bucks says you did more than talk."

"And if we didn't?"

"Then I keep my ten bucks." Nancy stood up. "Okay. I'm leaving now. But I want to have words with this guy."

"If you insist," I sighed.

"Oh, I do."

I double-locked my apartment door with the full knowledge that a determined demon would easily be able to get in. We quickly walked to the elevator, where Nancy and I both pressed the button for the penthouse repeatedly.

"Paranoia, table for two," I muttered.

"You have the right." Nancy shrugged. "Hey, I carry mace and my apartment's doorman is an ex-Marine and no wacko's tried to slice me open. Yet."

I looked at her in mild amusement. "Is that how you explain dangerous city crimes to your kindergarteners?"

We reached Cole's penthouse and Nancy marched out into the living room. "Hello?"

Cole, in a black robe that looked slightly like a smoking jacket (which totally nixed my idea for his Christmas gift) came into view. "Yes?" he asked.

"I'm Nancy Hansen," my friend-slash-bodyguard said. "We've met."

"I remember it well."

"As you should," I said, shooting Cole a smile.

"Now, I don't have a ton of time," Nancy went on, "but I just wanted to let you know that you've caught a pretty amazing catch. Like, Loch Ness Monster amazing."

"Thank you," I said. "You should really do publicity."

"Bottom line, Eddi's like my sister," Nancy told Cole. "I don't want her to get hurt. And if I find out that someone in this room was behind what happened, I'll be up here kick his ass before he can get his Porsche out of the parking garage. Are we clear?"

"Miss Hansen," began Cole, "I think we have something in common."

She looked a little taken aback by his answer. "All rightie, then." She switched her suitcase from her right hand to her left and gave me a hug. "Call me in a week or I'll call the cops."

I grinned in spite of myself. "Gotcha."

"And Cole?"

"I'm listening," he said.

Nancy studied him for a second. "You're growing on me."

With that, she left, singing the chorus to "My Heart Will Go On," as per tradition. (After graduation, we'd warbled it to each other as we headed off in our separate directions.)

"I have to say that I'll miss her," I said as the elevator doors slid shut. "She's got a couple screws loose but I love her."

"I could say that about someone else in this conversation," commented Cole.

I slapped his shoulder. "That was for the insult." I kissed his cheek. "And that was for the compliment."

"I'm hurt and flattered." Cole leaned against the enticing-looking grand piano (or maybe he just made it look enticing, I wasn't quite sure). "I've got reservations at Persephone's for seven tonight. Care to be my date?"

"Let me think about it."

"You were my last resort. All my other girlfriends had plans."

I slapped him again. "This time there's no consolation kiss."

"You'd better make your decision soon," he warned. "I still have to conjure a dress for you."

"I thought we settled that issue," I said, feeling slightly stupid and very un-female that I was balking at having free clothes showered upon me,

"Tonight's a special occasion."

"How so?"

Cole smiled with mock arrogance. "I'll tell you at dinner."

"I'll only go if you let me wear my own dress."

"If that's what it takes." Cole looked at his watch. "I'll be at your place in a hour."

And, disregarding my earlier threat, I kissed him. Because really, a punishment isn't supposed to affect both parties involved.

**XXX**

Half an hour later, my phone rang amidst the radio's strong prediction of warm weather for the rest of the week. I flipped it open with a grunt. "Hello?"

"Eddi," Cole's voice shouted directly in my ear.

I jerked the phone away and glared at it before turning the speakerphone off.

"Are you there?" he asked tinnily.

I put the phone back to my ear. "Sorry. I was having minor issues."

His eye roll was audible. "Look, I got a little tied up, so you should head up to the penthouse and wait there for me."

"Where'd you go?" I asked.

"Nowhere," he responded, sounding more than a little noncommittal. "I should be there soon."

He hung up before I could say goodbye. I glanced at the radio, almost expecting it to give me an answer. It responded with the slamming guitar chords of something that I'm sure would be aired no less than eighty thousand times in the next week for my enjoyment.

I mused about where Cole was as I zipped my dress. A traffic jam wouldn't be a legitimate excuse, because knowing him, he could fade both himself and his car to The Towers' parking garage in three seconds. A flat tire? Same thing. A close encounter with a repentant and lustful Phoebe Halliwell?

_That _would be his kryptonite. And mine, for that matter.

I leaned against my bedroom door. "Get a freaking grip, woman," I told myself. "They are over. They are so over. They're done. They're ABBA. Broken up _para siempre._"

But as many times as I told myself that, there was still a nagging doubt.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" a voice crowed from behind me. "Will you get _over _this already?"

I twirled around and shrieked. Or maybe I shrieked and twirled around. The order of actions didn't really matter, though, because whichever happened first, the end result was the same--I ended up facing myself.

Scratch that. It was Myself, Version 2.0, with straight hair, a tailored suit, and stilettos. If I hadn't had the whole becoming Phoebe (ugh, that _name_) thing, I would have considered this a lot weirder than it was. But still…_I _was not a demon. _I _was not a witch. _I _was boring.

"Hi," Version 2.0 snapped. "I really don't have time for this now."

"Then why are you here?" I asked. "_How _are you here?"

"Because you were about to do something stupid," replied Version 2.0. "Don't ask me what it was, but for some reason, my universe just imploded."

"_Excuse _me?"

"Well, not literally." Version 2.0 crossed her arms. "But for some reason, Cole just disappeared from my life. No pictures, no clothes, nothing. And you're the only reason I can think of for that to happen."

"Why do you automatically blame me?"

"Because I was you six years ago," she answered.

I examined her closer. "You're thirty-one?"

"Don't spread it around." Version 2.0 gave the apartment a quick once-over. "I haven't missed it here."

"You--I--whoever--_we--_move?"

"Yep." Version 2.0 allowed a grin before purposefully striding into the living room and wrenching open the drawer on my desk. "Is there a map around here?"

I shook my head. "I lost it at the gas station, remember?"

"Crap." She looked around. "Okay, then where's Cole?"

"He just called," I said. "He said that I should go up to the penthouse and he'd be there in a little while. Something about getting tied up somewhere. To tell the truth, he sounded kinda wonky."

Version 2.0 bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, a trait that I didn't realize I'd acquired. Or maybe it was a future thing. A look of horror spread across her face. "No," she said. "This isn't happening. This is below the belt, even for them."

"Who?" I asked, feeling a twinge in my stomach. "What?"

"We have to go, _now_," said the much more authoritative me. She grabbed my hand. "Hold onto your organs."

I couldn't get in another interrogative sentence before my body disintegrated, which caused many more interrogatives entered my brain. The main one was _how? _

When I melded back together, I wrenched away from my sleeker double. "Who are you?" I demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," she replied.

I looked around the dark cave that we'd appeared in. "Why are we here?"

"I doubt they've changed their headquarters." Version 2.0 paused. "Would have? Did? Had? …oh, screw it. Just keep an eye out for anybody in a black robe."

I glanced over my shoulder warily. "Would the robe wearers include Cole?"

Version 2.0 shook her head. "No," she said. "They have him to get to me. This whole thing was probably a trap, actually, but I've fallen for stupider and gotten out alive, so--duck!"

She shoved me down to the dusty ground just as a fireball whizzed over my head. "Hey! Moron!" she shouted. "How's this for firepower?"

There was a cry of pain and a sizzle. I pushed my hair out of my eyes to look up at the _very _new and improved me. "Who the hell," I began, "are you?"

She rolled her eyes and yanked me to my feet. "We're not even going to get into it now." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Damn. I really liked that dress."

I looked down and the tattered hem of my red sheath greeted me. "I suppose I'll have to reimburse myself."

Version 2.0 snickered. "Let's go. I think I've got a read on him."

Not bothering to ask who she meant, I followed her down a long passageway and into a chamber. It was bare except for a rumpled figure in the corner--a rumpled figure in a black silk suit, I might add.

"Cole!" Version 2.0 hissed, scrambling over to him and shaking his shoulders. "Wake up. Come on. Come _on, _we've gotta go."

He mumbled something and rolled over. "What'd you do to your hair?" he questioned muffledly.

Version 2.0 motioned to me. "Help me untie him."

"Tied up," I said, echoing his previous statement as I obeyed her command. "Subtle warning there."

Cole's eyes flitted over to me. "What's going on?"

"Long story short?" Version 2.0 patted his cheek. "A couple of my associates from the future came back here to kill you and therefore mess me up completely, which would give them the upper hand in six years. I actually thought that my younger self was to blame, for which I am very sorry."

"Huh?" Cole and I asked in unison.

"Never mind." Version 2.0 smiled. "Sorry to drop in like this."

"Speaking of…" I rubbed my left temple. "How did you get here? And how did _we _get _here_? And out there…"

"Like I said, you'll find out soon enough." Version 2.0 shrugged cryptically. "Don't worry."

And with that, she snapped her fingers and disappeared in a conglomeration of silvery lights.

"We've gotta get out of here." Cole put his arms around my waist and we were gone. Fading was more my style than the other type that the future me would employ.

I shuddered as we arrived in the penthouse. "Anyway, what _happened _to you?" I asked.

"I was ambushed by about a dozen guys with spears," said Cole. "They shimmered me down to where we were and we had words. After that I realized that I was outnumbered and, well…" He gestured to the bruise under his left eye.

"Did you call me?" I asked.

"That was them." He snorted. "Fakers."

"Huh." I debated delving into the issue a little deeper, but scrapped that idea almost immediately. One thing that past few months had taught me was that some things didn't need to be explained immediately. Instead, I pressed my lips to his. "I'm glad you're okay."

**XXX**

It was only later that night when I realized that Cole Turner would be a part of my life in six years. A very big part, apparently. It was almost scary. My longest relationship had been, up until now, three months with a guy named Ritch. We'd played Scrabble a lot and did crossword puzzles. Viv had hated him.

But Cole…Cole seemed to have staying power.

I glanced over at his sleeping figure. His sleeping figure turned to face me, I jumped, and he laughed.

"Not tired?" he asked.

"Thinking," I answered.

"About?"

"Nothing."

Cole, apparently sick of the one-word conversation, pressed his forehead to mine. "Is it about what happened tonight?"

"Mind reader," I accused.

He sighed. "You were old, woman."

"Says the one who's now needs three birthday cakes to hold all his candles."

"How old did she say she was?" he pressed. "Forty? Fifty?"

I sneered at him. "Thirty-one, for your information."

"I think the hair was the aging factor."

"I'm so not making you breakfast tomorrow."

"Seriously, though," he said. "I keep trying to imagine you in your thirties. It's not working."

"That's good," I said. "Eternal youth, you know."

Cole chuckled. "You in a minivan. You in the PTA. You at some soccer game with a bunch of muddy kids."

"You'll be right there with me." I squeezed his shoulder. "I hope so, at least."

He pursed his lips. "I'm pretty sure that I will be."

My sleep that night was the best it had been in recent memory.

_A/N: Wow. Let me just introduce myself, for those that have forgotten:_

"_Hi! I'm Christine! I write stories and update really slowly!"_

_But believe it (or not), there's a good explanation for the wait on this one. The original chapter that was supposed to follow the last one felt out of place with the way the story is going. See, each chapter itself is written out by hand, but once it's typed and posted, it takes on a whole new dynamic. So that's why I had to scrap it and start again. Thanks to those of you that asked about it--I love that my work invades your mind! Heh. _

_Anyway--thanks again for reading, sticking with me, and offering advice…or criticism. You know, whichever floats your boat._

_And I stuck this little sidebar in __A Nightmare Come True__, but I figured I'd interject it here too--if you want to read more of my writing and get a glimpse at my daily life, go to my blog (the address is on my profile). Everyone in my life gets a code name, but you can probably figure them out easily enough from my profile and whatnot. _

_Ciao, bellos! _


	19. Long Live the Past

**More Than She Bargained For**

**Chapter Nineteen: Long Live the Past**

I absolutely detest mass e-mails. You know the ones. The sender goes carefully through her contact list, selects everyone that she's at least sneezed on in the past five years, and the glad tidings of hearth and home make their merry way through the magical internet to seventy-five inboxes. So when one of those little beauties landed in my inbox on a drizzly Wednesday, my mood was not lifted.

__

Hello from the Taft-Jerome home! Marise and Mark wish you the best and hope that spring is finding its way to your doorstep!

"Spring," I repeated. "Crappy weather. Freak thunderstorms. Yes, Marise, it is finding its way to my doorstep. You want it back?"

__

We have some exciting news for everybody. As of eight weeks ago, there is officially a third person in our little family. That's right--Marise is pregnant! (Sonogram pictures are attached.)

I squinted, trying to make sure that I'd read the last three non-parenthesized words correctly. _Marise. Is. Pregnant. _

Huh.

A bit of a backstory is needed here. Marise Taft was a friend of mine from college. "Friend" in the loose sense of the word. She was Bridgette DiMaggio's roommate-slash-warden (which, considering Bridgette's track record, was not entirely unnecessary). She never really fit in with any group, which is why she eventually fell in with Nancy's and my weirdos. And even we had issues with her. She'd been married since early junior year and seemed to have lost grasp of the first person singular tense. And since graduation, her infatuation with being part of a married couple had increased.

The e-mail continued chipperly.

__

We'd love for all of you to come up and visit us! (But not at the same time, ha ha ha.) Drop us a line sometime and we'll work out something!

__

Best wishes!

"What're you doing?"

I'd closed my window, opened a Word document, and began to type frantically before it registered that my questioner was Cole, not Andrea. I turned around in an attempt to look serious. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

He chuckled. "I suppose that means you want to eat lunch by yourself to recover?"

"What're we having?" I asked.

"Thai."

I stood up. "I'm recovered. Let's go."XXX

I forgot about Marise's e-mail until late that afternoon in the elevator. When it popped into my head later that afternoon, I promptly whacked my hand against the wall.

Cole jumped. "What?"

"My stupid friend from college," I answered, surprised at the annoyance that was growing inside of me. "She's married and she's pregnant and she's gloating. Oh, excuse me. _They're _gloating."

A confused expression spread across his face. "And this bothers you…why?"

I couldn't answer his question. Because…she was obnoxious? Because…her cheeriness set my teeth on edge? I couldn't fill in the blank. "I don't know," I finally responded. "I really don't."

"How old is she?" Cole asked. "Your friend."

"Marise is twenty-four," I said. "She and Mark have dated since she was nineteen and they got married when she was twenty-two." I rolled my eyes. "If you've ever got a couple extra hours, I'll tell you their grand and tragic tale of their courtship."

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the spotless penthouse. I shook my head, eager to get away from the hyphenated woman of my past. "You've lived here for twice as long as I've had the apartment and it looks like you just moved in. How do you do that?"

He shrugged. "I lead a quiet life."

"Whatever," I snickered.

"Really," he said. "Besides, it's not really my favorite place."

"Why not?" I asked incredulously. "You've got a Jacuzzi! And that terrace…and the _view_. And the windows." I looked over at the spacious view. "I'd never leave."

"Right." Cole averted his gaze from mine. "You were talking about some movie that you wanted to see during lunch that's playing at the, uh, theater, weren't you?"

I nodded. "The Spanish one," I answered.

"You should go do that, then," he said.

"You're not coming?" I asked. "I thought it could be another normal couple excursion."

"I'm not really feeling up to it. Headache. I have a feeling tildes would make it worse."

I looked at Cole closer. "Are you okay?"

"I…" He trailed off. "You don't want to know."

"Do I want to know half the stuff I know?" I mused.

"Exactly."

I put my hand on his arm. "Tell me."

For the first time in a long time, he pulled away. "It's not something I like talking about."

"Okay," I said, a little stung. "All right. Fine. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, then."

I stepped into the brown tiled elevator and listened to the doors swish shut. The small box made its jerky way down and I sighed. All of the mumbo-jumbo about women's intuition and just "knowing" that something was wrong with your man wasn't applicable in this case.

"You're pathetic," I informed my distorted reflection in the mirror on the ceiling. It offered no advice other than a strong reminder that I'd spilled coffee on my blouse earlier that morning.

When I got to my apartment, I unlocked the door and peered around inside half-heartedly. Bring on the demons with their stupid daggers. I had a feeling that my annoyance at the moment would more than make up for my lack of powers. Seeing no mysterious intruders, I meandered into my bedroom and none-too-gently pulled off my shirt. The dark splotches on the yellow material seemed to scold me for being an incompetent female. Which was, from the way things were looking, probably not a far-off accusation.

It was true. I _was_ an incompetent female. When I was a freshman in college, my cousin Cynthia had a baby three weeks before the Arbess family reunion. I secretly hoped that she'd decide that nesting with Isaiah Daniel was more important than watching her uncles yell at the Green Bay Packers for fumbling, but she showed up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, her son in tow. And everyone went nuts. My cousins Lauren and Kellie, who were hardly old enough to know where babies came from, emitted earsplitting screeches the second they saw the newest member to the family. Even Viv abandoned both me and our pact to keep together at all times during family functions in favor of waving things in the kid's face. Everyone felt this fuzziness and fluffiness and all sorts of other "-ness" emotions that I didn't. Babies made me uneasy and jumpy. That mothering instinct that every other female over the age of four seemed to have obviously skipped my genetic makeup.

The only female things I had going for me, I decided at long last, were jealousy and an enjoyment of window shopping. All that intuition stuff you hear so much about? Yeah. Not the most dominant part of my makeup. In college I was famous for being oblivious.

I slipped into a sweatshirt and crawled under the covers on my unmade bed. Sleep was what I needed more than anything right now.

I'm not sure when I drifted off (probably somewhere between imagining a dysfunctional Brady Bunch and wondering what Marise would look like seven month pregnant), but when I woke up, I was in the penthouse. My vision was wobbly--I had to squint to focus on any one thing clearly.

Dreaming. I was dreaming. And even in dreams I couldn't get a respite from everyday life.

But something was different. And the thing that was different was Phoebe Halliwell and Cole Turner were in the midst of some sort of fight. Obviously I hadn't disturbed them with my arrival.

"Are you _kidding _me?" I muttered. "Can't I just have something normal about Al Pacino or something?"

"I don't have time for games, Phoebe," Cole said, a condescending edge creeping into his voice. "Just drink the tonic, or leave. Now."

"What is going on with you?" Phoebe demanded. "What happened?"

"What happened is you had to go and play demon catcher with your sisters."

"Cole, it's who I am!" she shouted, gesturing madly. Anguish showed cleanly on her face.

"And now we're in danger. Serious danger. If you don't care about your life, or mine, or the baby's…" (his voice wobbled slightly on that) "…what about Paige and Piper?"

This was different. _He _was different. This wasn't Cole. This was cool, calm, and manipulative.

This was, I realized suddenly, the Source. This was history, playing out before my eyes somehow.

"Don't you threaten them," Phoebe said.

"I'm not," he replied matter-of-factly. "But if there's a coup, do you think whoever takes over from me will let them live? Without the Power of Three, they're sitting ducks."

Phoebe, arms crossed, avoided his gaze. "I don't know what to do."

"You can't go back." Cole went over to the table and picked up something that looked almost like a champagne glass. He examined it. "There is only one choice. Drink the tonic."

The Queen of All Evil remained silent.

"You have to know," Cole went on, slinking over to her, "that I would never do anything to hurt you. Please? For us? For our son?"

There was a pause that should have been filled with dramatic violin screeching. Phoebe took it from him and gulped the amber liquid down with a scowl.

Cole wrapped his arms around her. "I love you, Phoebe," he said softly. "Just remember whatever happens next, we can handle it as long as we stay together."

"What do you mean," Phoebe asked with a gulp, "'whatever happens next'?"

"The Conroy thing got serious. I had to take care of it."

Phoebe pulled away. "You killed him?" she enunciated, her voice rising.

"It was your mess, I was just cleaning it up," he explained.

"Cole, they're gonna come after you," she said desperately. "They're gonna come _here_!"

"Well, if they do--" he started.

"No." Phoebe shook her head and moved away from him.

Cole followed her. "Phoebe, if it comes down to them or us…"

She clutched her stomach. "Oh God."

With that, she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, Cole's request of "Phoebe, wait" going unnoticed.

"Why am I here?" I asked myself under the sounds of retching. "Why do I need to see this?"

And a female voice, distinctive and piercing, replied, "So you can get it through your head that it's not all about you."

"Excuse me?" I cast my glance wildly around the room.

There was no answer.

"Phoebe." Cole tapped his knuckles on the door. "Phoebe?"

"Like she's gonna talk to you," I muttered.

He cast his glance in our direction and my heart stopped. Goodbye, future self. I was gonna fry right here, right now. Stupid penthouse _wanted _me to sizzle into a crisp.

But I hadn't been the one he'd been glancing at. Instead, a woman I recognized as Piper appeared in a whirl of blue and white lights with a blonde man. Another whirl brought a brown-haired Paige. Cole regarded them for a long moment.

"You evil son of a bitch," Paige said at last.

Piper flung her hands open at him and he disintegrated with a sound like hornets. Paige scuttled around the flying fragments, setting crystalline rocks down in a circle.

"Phoebe," Piper called angrily. "Get out here and help us, dammit."

"What are they doing?" I asked, momentarily averting my eyes to meet those of my guide.

The buzzing stopped and Piper issued a warning to her young sister, drawing my gaze back to them just in time to see Paige fly across the room.

"Don't make me kill you," Cole uttered.

Piper dismantled him again. "Phoebe, you heard what he said, he's gonna kill us, _help us_!"

The door to the bathroom opened as Cole spun back together and formed an all-too-familiar fireball. Across the room, Phoebe picked up the remaining rock. She looked at her sisters, then her husband.

"I'm sorry," Cole said, nodding slightly. "It's…it's for the best."

"I know it is," she said, sounding slightly absent as she walked towards him.

And then it hit me.

"You're going to make me watch him die, aren't you?" I hissed at the voice. "_Aren't _you?"

The fireball in Cole's hand extinguished as Phoebe kissed him.

"Phoebe?" Piper queried, sounding confused and scared, both for very good reasons.

"I'm sorry too," Phoebe said finally, pulling away and setting the rock down. A bluish light sprang up from him to meet the others, forming a cage.

"Phoebe, no." Cole looked around. "No!"

"I'm sorry, baby," his wife said huskily. "I'm so sorry."

And then the Charmed Ones began to chant. Piper began, with "Prudence, Penelope, Patricia, Melinda." Phoebe followed tearfully with "Astrid, Helen, Laura, and Grace" and the flames from Piper's stanza reached his chest.

"I'll always love you," Cole breathed and I felt tears spring to my eyes. _Ow_.

"Halliwell witches stand strong beside us," said Paige, and all three finished with "Vanquish this evil from time and space."

There was a mighty bang. The windows shattered, the Halliwells winced, and I covered my eyes. I knew this was the past and that my Cole was somewhere in my time doing something unbeknownst to me, but this was a part of him.

His words from this afternoon popped into my head: _Besides, it's not really my favorite place. _

"Jacuzzi. Terrace." I glanced upward. "I'm an idiot."

And the room dissolved into blackness. My mind was racing. Penthouse. Bad. Vanquish. Boom.

Then _why_, I wondered, was he still living there?

That was the thought that woke me up.

San Francisco's property market wasn't the greatest. I knew that. But I also knew that there was one little piece of property that happened to be _on _the market. Large, luxurious, and in need of paint.

It also happened to be next to the Halliwells'

I didn't sleep well that night. Oh, I tried. Valiantly. It was somewhere around two-thirty that I gave up, flipped on my lamp, and attempted to read a trashy book I'd bought from the bargain bin at ShopKo. I managed to get to the second chapter before giving up. I had no clue what was going on. Plot, characters, motivation? No clue. The dream kept popping back into my head. I didn't know how it had happened to flash into my mind, or who the voice belonged to. Whatever it was, though, I was sure had something to do with whatever made my future self come for a visit.

I honestly didn't know what was going on. And I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. All that I did want was a new, history-free environment. But the thing was, Prescott Street _had _a history. Cole had lived there for six months when he was with Phoebe.

"And not everything's about her either," the same voice from the dream whispered. "Have you ever heard of an even mix?"

"Okay." I clasped my hands over my head. "Show yourself."

"I can't," it said. "It's not part of the job description."

"Fine," I said, rolling over. "Part of my job description is getting adequate sleep. So good night."

There was a slight sigh. "Fine. I'll leave you alone. But one thing."

"What?"

"Buy the house."

"I barely have enough for this apartment," I said, and just then it hit me how stupid I was to be talking to an invisible woman.

"Well then, maybe you should do what you went to college for."

I rolled my eyes, which were feeling heavier by the second. "What, bad fashion and good music?"

"Writing," the voice said, sounding like it too was rolling its eyes. "You're good at that. That's what you _should _be doing, not doing office work."

"Okay," I replied. "Finagle me a job with _Marie Claire _and drop some money in my lap and then we'll talk."

"You've gotta make this hard" was the last thing I heard before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

__

A/N: Hi, all! How've you been doing? Happy Valentine's Day AND Happy New Year AND Merry Christmas (I think), because it has been eight million years since I have updated! And I am very sorry to have kept you all waiting, but I am diverging a bit from my faithful green notebook that contained the first draft of this, because there is a great deal of that that is crap. Seriously. It's shocking how little transition/introspective modes I included in that. So that's the reason for the holdup. Bad reason, I know. Add that to a little writer's block and a lot of homework (I should really be researching Ida M. Tarbell right now), and things take longer than they should.

Anyway, I'm babbling now. I hope you all have a great day, and I'm off to chapter twenty!

Oh, and one more thing--I know that at this point, there are a lot of unanswered questions. They will all be answered, I promise you.


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